JH; 


\  •!  ^  •  •! :!  •  E    &!    Mv 


:  :  i  i  s 


| 


I 


V         ^ 

v 


ill 


UNDERCURRENTS. 


BY  THE  SAME  ATJTHOE, 

A  NEW   EDITION   OP 

V  I  N"  r-T      LIEG-E 

12mo.,  $1.25. 


UNDERCURRENTS 


OF 


WALL-STREET. 


A   ROMANCE    OF   BUSINESS 


BY  RICHARD  B.  KIMBALL, 

AUTHOR  OF    "ST.    LEGER,"    "ROMA.XCE   OF   STUDENT   LIFE,"   ETC. 


"Misliko  me  not  for  my  complexion." 

MERCHANT  OK  VENICE. 


NEW  YORK : 
G.   P.    PUTNAM,    532   BROADWAY. 

18  02. 


Entered  according  fc>  A<vt^f.G(insres^  in  jthe  -year  1862, 
B  Y  Ki*b4t:A*K*D;  B.:  fclJitg  A'L  I  , 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States,  for  the 
Southern  District  of  New  York. 


M'CRBA  <fc  MILLER,  STEREOTYPKKS.  0.  A.  ALVOKD,  PRINT  EH. 


TO 

Jjehiiiafc     $erit, 

PRESIDENT  OF  THE  CHAMBER  OF  COMMERCE, 

IX   THE   CITY   OB*   NEW   TOKK, 

THIS     WORK     IS     DEDICATED 

BY 

THE  AUTHOR. 


CONTENTS. 


PART  FIRST. 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I. — INTRODUCTORY 9 

II. — A  CLOUD  ON  THE  HORIZON 24 

III. — WILL  THE  STORM  BURST  ? 32 

IV. — DISASTER 37 

V. — ATTEMPTS  AT  COMPROMISE 50 

VI. — JOHN  BULLDOG,  ATTORNEY- AT-L AW GO 

VII. — A  DIGRESSION 64 

VIII. — THE  ASSIGNMENT 66 

IX. — AN  INTERESTING  DISCUSSION 76 

X.— THE  ARREST 86 

XL — AN  AGREEABLE  DISAPPOINTMENT 97 

XII. — THE  HOLIDAYS 100 

XIII. — SIMPKINS 10.5 

XIV. — A  FRESH  COMPLICATION 109 

XV.— FLORENCE 115 

XVI. — PREPARATIONS 124 

XVH. — DEATH 133 

XVIII. — MOURNING 135 

XIX. — THE  AUCTION.  .                                                                     .  1:53 


PART  SECOND. 

CHAPTER  PAOB 

I. — THE  LOCALITY 143 

II. — PERSONAL 149 

III. — WHAT  is  TO  BE  DONE  ? 154 

IV. — SOL  DOWNER 163 

V. — CLOSE  CALCULATIONS 1(58- 

VI. — SPLENDID  OFFERS 172 

VII  — THE  USURER 183 

VIII. — AN  UNLOCKED  FOR  OCCURRENCE.  .  .  189 


CONTEXTS. 

CUAPTEK  PAQR 

IX. — THE  ACTUAL 193 

X. — HARLEY 204 

XL — Ax  EXTENSIVE  OPERATION 211 

XII.— THE  LIE 217 

XIII, — THE  GLORIA  HOTEL 227 

XIY. — DOWNER'S  FAMILY 233 

XV. — AN  ADVENTURE 236 

XVI. — DOWNER  BEFORE  THE  MAGISTRATE 242 

XVIL-^THE  CLASS  SPECULATIVE 252 

X VIII.— WAS  I  RELIGIOUS  ? 260 

XIX. — ALWORTHY  &  Co 263 

XX. — THE  STORY  OF  RALPH  HITCHCOCK 268 

XXL — DAY-DREAMS 277 

XXII. — HARLEY  ABROAD 283 

XXIII. — THE  CHOLERA 290 

PART  THE  LAST. 

CHAPTER  PAGK 

I. — THE  RETROSPECT 299 

II. — FRESH  STRENGTH 314 

III. — NEW  ARRANGEMENTS 318 

IV. — A  CONSULTATION 327 

V. — AN  UNFORTUNATE  CLASS 331 

VI. — DEATH  OF  MRS.  HITCHCOCK 335 

VIL — MORALIZING 340 

VIII.— MATILDA 343 

IX. — FRINK 351 

X. — THE  PAWNBROKER 355 

XL — VARIOUS  MATTERS 362 

XII. — A  NEW-COMER 370 

XIII. — THE  LAST  EFFORT  OF  DOWNER '373 

XIV. — MRS.  FREDERICK  AUGUSTUS  HAVENS 377 

XV. — HEART-BROKEN 382 

XVL— THE  SOLUTION 393 

XVII. — CRISIS 398 

XVIII. — THE  GIRL  ON  THE  SIDEWALK 401 

XIX. — WHAT  DOES  IT  MEAN  ? , 406 

XX.— THE  TURNING-POINT 409 

XXI. — THE  LETTER 412 

XXII. — A  STRANGE  REVELATION : 417 

XXIII. — THE  INTERVIEW 423 

XXIV. — THE  CONCLUSION.  .  ...  425 


UNDERCURRENTS  OF  WALL-STREET. 


"Beneath  heaven's  genial  sunshine  everywhere 
Is  heard  the  utterance  of  the  human  heart : 
Each  in  his  language  doth  the  plaint  impart ; 
Then  why  not  I  in  mine  ?" 


CHAPTER    I. 

INTRODUCTORY. 

ON  Saturday  afternoon,  the  sixteenth  day  of  October, 
1858,  something  extraordinary  occurred  to  change  the 
dreadful  routine  of  my  life.  I  cannot  now  recall  it  without 
a  sudden  quickening  of  the  pulse.  Then  it  rendered  me 
for  a  time  nearly  insensible. 

On  Saturday  afternoon,  the  sixteenth  day  of  October, 
1858,  the  postman  brought  into  my  office  a  letter  for  me, 
received  two  cents,  and  departed.  Before  I  state  the  con 
tents  of  this  letter,  I  will  give  the  reader  some  account  of 
myself.  On  the  said  sixteenth  day  of  October,  1858,  I  oc 
cupied  an  office — no,  I  had  "desk-room"  in  a  basement  office, 
No.  — ,  Wall  street.  I  was  a  note-broker ;  no,  I  was  not  a 
note-broker,  but  a  sort  of  Man-Friday  to  several  note-bro 
kers  and  to  several  note-shavers,  men  well-to-do  in  the  world, 
whose  property  consists  in  cash  in  hand,  and  who,  spider- 
like,  repose  quietly  in  their  dens  and  suck  the  marrow  out 
1* 


10  UNDERCURRENTS 

of  hard-working  men — industrious,  laborious  citizens — un 
fortunate  devils  who  have  not  much  credit  at  the  banks,  and 
who  are  in  consequence,  like  other  unfortunates  of  another 
sex,  forced  upon  the  "  street." 

At  the  date  aforesaid,  I  was  a  jackal,  tender,  runner,  pilot- 
fish,  satellite,  serf,  toad-eater,  or  any  other  humiliating 
phrase  you  choose,  reader,  to  employ,  for  the  respectable 
class  of  note-brokers  and  note-shavers  just  referred  to.  Do 
npt^ppqsc-'I^was  in  love  with  my  situation.  Do  not  sup- 
pos.2  Xwa^s-not  keenly  alive  to  the  disgusting  office  from 
which  I  could'iiot 'escape.  Day  by  day,  when  wearied  and 
worn  out  with  incessant  toil,  and  humiliated  by  varying  but 
never-ending  exhibitions  of  coarseness  and  arrogance,  I 
would  go  to  my  home,  resolving  never  again  to  expose  my 
self  to  these,  the  sight  of  two  daughters  grown  into  woman 
hood — two  motherless  daughters — and  a  son,  nearly  grown 
to  man's  estate,  and  dying  gradually  of  consumption, 
would  send  me  back  the  next  morning  to  the  "  street," 
meek,  sorrowful,  submissive.  How  did  I  come  to  this  ? — 
How,  gradually,  from  the  enjoyment  of  wealth  and  "fash 
ionable  society,"  and  friends  without  number,  and  what  are 
called  the  "  delights  of  social  intercourse,"  from  influence 
and  consideration — from  all,  in  short,  that  is  deemed  desir 
able,  and  highly  respectable,  and  absolutely  the  thing ;  how, 
I  say,  gradually  did  I  come  to  pay  two  dollars  a  week  for 
"  desk-room"  in  the  basement  of  No.  — ,  Wall  street  ? 

It  is  no  new  story — it  is  the  old  story,  scarcely  with  va 
riations.  I  am  sixty-one  years  old — almost  sixty-two.  In 
1837  I  was  a  leading  importer  of  silk  goods  in  this  city.  I 
lived  in  what  was  then  a  very  fine  house  in  Broadway,  a 


OF      WALL-STREET.  11 

little  above  Bond  street.  I  visited  Europe  frequently — on 
business,  it  is  true ;  but  my  tastes  were  refined,  and  my  ed 
ucation  good ;  for,  although  destined  to  a  commercial  life, 
my  father,  who  took  a  wide  and  liberal  view  of  what  was 
required  for  an  accomplished  merchant,  had  sent  me  to 
"  Yale,"  where  I  graduated  respectably,  and  from  whence 
I  entered  a  counting-room.  These  European  trips,  there 
fore,  were  not  thrown  away  on  me.  My  wife  sometimes 
went  with  me,  till  the  care  of  young  children  prevented. 

The  crisis  of  1837  swept  over  the  entire  country  like  a 
tornado,  and  it  carried  our  firm  irretrievably  under.  I  was 
in  the  very  vigor  of  manhood,  and  I  laughed  at  calamity. 
I  only  felt  the  stronger  to  resist  and  to  conquer.  Just  as  soon 
as  we  could  discover  the  extent  of  the  disaster,  I  set  to 
work  to  clear  the  wreck  and  to  prepare  a  statement,  so  that 
I  could  put  a  clean  sheet  before  our  creditors,  offer  to  them  all 
we  had,  and  request  a  discharge.  But  our  creditors  were  not 
to  be  found.  They  in  their  turn  had  gone  down,  had  made 
assignments,  had  no  power  to  give  discharges ;  all  was 
blended  in  a  general  insolvency,  a  universal  ruin  ;  and  so 
our  firm  made  an  assignment,  like  the  rest.  I  was  not  dis 
couraged.  I  occupied  myself,  for  a  time,  in  aiding  the  as 
signee  at  our  old  counting-room.  We  still  had  our  house  as 
before  ;  it  was  the  inheritance  of  my  wife,  and  I  felt  no 
shame  in  living  in  it,  since  I  had  surrendered  every  dollar's 
worth  of  my  own  property  to  the  assignee.  Soon  I  discov 
ered  that  it  was  a  hopeless  task  to  endeavor  to  make  any 
thing  out  of  our  bankrupt  estate.  What  should  I  do  ?  I 
could  attempt  no  business  in  my  own  name,  and  I  saw  no 
hope  of  relief  from  thraldom.  A  man  in  the  prime  of  life, 


12  UNDERCURRENTS 

full  of  energy,  and  courage,  and  resolution,  to  be  chained 
hand  and  foot,  and  kept  in  perpetual  bondage ! 

About  this  time,  my  friend  Russell  remarked  to  me  (Rus 
sell  had,  through  his  wife,  come  into  possession  of  a  large 
fortune,  consisting  principally  of  unincumbered  real  estate 
in  the  city,  and  did  nothing  but  look  carefully  to  the  collec 
tion  of  the  rents) — Russell,  I  say,  remarked  to  me,  in  his 
cool,  supercilious  way :  "  I  tell  you  what  it  is,  Parkinson, 
there  is  no  necessity  for  a  man's  failing — none  whatever. 
Just  look  at  me,  now !"  At  that  moment  I  was  in  a  very 
bitter  mood,  and  I  am  afraid  I  cursed  Russell  in  my  heart. 
I  do  not  know,  but  I  think  I  have  hated  him  ever  since,  for 
in  after  years,  when  I  used  to  walk  wearily  past  his  house 
(I  saved  sixpence  by  not  riding),  I  saw  him  stepping  into 
his  carriage  for  an  evening  drive,  glossy,  and  sleek,  and  full 
foil,  sometimes — God  forgive  me — yes,  sometimes,  between 
my  close  compressed  teeth  have  escaped,  as  if  spontaneously 
and  not  to  be  repressed,  the  words — "  damn  him !"  I  men 
tion  this  because  I  do  not  believe,  with  some,  that  poverty 
tends  to  subdue  or  improve  the  evil  in  our  hearts;  if  it  doss, 
why,  looking  thus  at  Russell,  in  his  fine,  open  landau,  did 
the  gall  so  rise  and  overflow  ? 

Well,  two  or  three  years  ran  away.  We  had  preserved 
an  outward  semblance  of  our  old  life.  Friends  had  not  ab 
solutely  dropped  orf.  I  had  no  rent  to  pay,  and  my  wife 
knew  how  to  economize.  But  every  now  and  then  visions 
of  the  wolf  began  to  haunt  me.  It  was  only  the  head 
which  appeared,  thrust  through  the  door  into  the  parlor, 
exhibiting  the  slightest  possible  curl  in  the  long,  sharp 
mouth,  disclosing  two  pointed  ivory  fangs — disclosing,  but 


OP      WALL-STREET.  13 

for  an  instant,  two  pointed  ivory  fangs,  and  then  quickly 
concealed,  and  the  head  as  quickly  withdrawn.  My  GOD  ! 
reader,  do  you  know  by  experience  any  thing  of  the  sensa 
tions  produced  by  such  an  apparition  ?  Do  you  know  what 
it  is  to  have  a  wife  who  clings  to  you,  quite  safe  in  her  pro 
tector,  and  young  children  who  look  to  "  papa"  as  to  OM 
NIPOTENCE  ? 

At  last  the  year  of  Jubilee  was  announced.  A  general 
Bankrupt  Law !  Men's  faces  brightened  with  hope.  Hur 
ried  congratulations  passed  from  lip  to  lip.  Hands  were 
grasped  with  an  almost  unnatural  fervor.  Jubilee !  release 
from  bondage!  joy — joy  over  the  whole  land!  Yet  Rus 
sell,  who,  with  all  his  care — with  all  his  close,  sharp,  per 
sisting  management — had,  now  and  then,  been  victimized,  as 
he  called  it,  by  an  unfortunate  debtor,  who,  his  security 
having  failed,  was  found  wanting  on  the  last  quarter-day — 
Russell,  who  had  sometimes  foreclosed  a  mortgage,  and 
taking  advantage  of  the  depressed  state  of  things,  had  bid 
in  the  property  for  one-half  its  value,  and  thus  obtained  a 
decree  over  against  the  once  happy  possessor  of  a  comfort 
able  home — Russell  wras,  as  a  matter  of  principle — oh  !  yes, 
wholly  as  a  matter  of  principle — opposed  to  the  general 
bankrupt  law !  opposed  to  any  relief  for  the  thousands  and 
tens  of  thousands  who,  indebted  beyond  the  faintest  hope 
of  retrieve,  were  suffering  the  torture  of  despair.  But 
Russell's  objection  to  the  law — on  principle,  mind  you — 
fortunately  had  but  slight  effect  on  the  happy  applicants  for 
its  favor.  I  w^as  among  the  first  to  take  advantage  of  the 
Act.  I  met  with  no  opposition,  and  in  a  short  time  I  was 
free. 


14  UNDERCURRENTS 

This  was  early  in  the  year  1842.  I  now  cast  about  to 
decide  what  I  should  do.  I  concluded  not  to  embark  in  the 
old  business.  I  thought  it  would  be  easier  to  renew  confi 
dence,  and  make  a  credit,  in  some  other  line  of  mercantile 
affairs.  This  was  perhaps  an  error,  because  I  had  been 
thoroughly  educated  to  that  particular  branch,  and  I  should 
have  much  to  learn  in  commencing  on  another.  Looking 
back,  I  think  that  pride  lay  at  the  bottom  of  this ;  pride, 
because  I  could  not  at  once  start  on  my  old  footing ;  pride, 
that  many  younger  men,  who  had  commenced  since  I  had 
stopped,  were  already  so  much  in  advance  of  any  thing  I 
could  undertake.  I  did  not  understand  this,  then;  but  now 
I  know  myself  better.  At  the  same  time,  let  it  be  under 
stood  that,  in  New  York,  five  years  comprise  almost  a  bus 
iness  generation.  I  had  been  laid  one  side,  and  shelved  for 
just  five  years ;  and  now,  when  I  was  preparing  to  start 
again,  I  had  to  compete  with  a  new  race  of  merchants, 
younger,  keener,  fresher  than  the  race  who  had  gone  under. 
This  did  not  alarm  me.  I  had  confidence  in  myself,  and  I 
preferred  to  encounter  those  who  exhibited  intelligence  and 
activity  in  affairs,  rather  than  the  incompetent  and  stupid. 
After  considerable  reflection,  I  resolved  to  commence  a 
wholesale  grocery  business,  which  should  include,  from  time 
to  time,  legitimate  operations,  sometimes  in  cotton,  some 
times  in  produce.  I  started  with  a  cash  capital  of  twenty- 
five  thousand  dollars.  Fifteen  thousand  of  this  my  wife  in 
sisted  on  raising  by  a  mortgage  upon  the  house  we  lived  in. 
Five  thousand  more  was  contributed  by  my  mother;  it  was 
about  the  portion  to  which  I  would  be  entitled  on  her  death, 
and  she  urged  me  strongly  to  receive  it  then.  She  was  old, 


OF      WALL-STREET.  15 

she  said,  and  had  no  longer  the  wants  nor  the  wishes  of 
younger  folks.  I  took  the  fifteen  thousand  from  my  wife, 
and  the  five  thousand  from  my  mother,  with  some  mis 
givings.  It  was  my  only  chance,  though;  what  weakness 
to  refuse  it!  A  friend  —  a  tried,  thoroughly  tried  friend  —  a 
college  mate,  who  was  possessed  of  large  means,  lent  me 
other  five  thousand,  without  security,  and  with  a  declaration 
that,  in  event  of  misfortune,  he  would  not  permit  me  to 
treat  it  as  "confidential." 

Behold  me,  then,  with  twenty-five  thousand  dollars  in 
cash,  with  a  junior  partner  who  put  in  three  thousand  dol 
lars,  and  who  was  brought  up  to  the  business,  and  favora 
bly  introduced  to  me  by  the  old  and  experienced  firm  of 
Powell,  Weatherby,  Keep  and  Company  —  behold  me,  on 
the  first  day  of  January,  1843,  in  a  fine,  spacious  store  in 
Front-street,  my  flag  once  more  to  the  wind  : 

paries  35.  $aritfns<m  anti 


There  was  great  joy  on  that  first  day  of  January,  1843, 
at  our  house  in  Broadway,  a  little  above  Bond-street.  An 
open  house  it  was,  and  many  were  the  New  Year's  visits 
my  wife  received,  and  many  the  visits  I  made.  All  the 
gloom  and  hope  deferred  of  the  past  six  years  were  forgot 
ten.  The  three  little  folks  —  my  two  little  girls  and  my  one 
little  boy  —  partook,  without  knowing  why,  in  the  general 
hilarity. 

I  found  on  setting  seriously  to  work  at  my  new  business, 
that  I  had  every  thing  to  learn.  My  partner  proved  to  be 
an  active  and  intelligent  young  man.  He  knew  the  routine 


16  UNDERCURRENTS 

of  the  trade  well,  and  although  he  sometimes  assumed  more 
than  was  becoming  a  comparative  youth,  I  cannot  say  that 
he  took  advantage  of  his  position ;  nor  am  I  aware  that  he 
ever  violated  the  rules  of  our  copartnership.  He  made  two 
or  three  pretty  large  bad  debts  the  first  six  months  we  were 
together,  which  had  the  good  effect  to  lower  his  self-confi 
dence,  and  to  lead  him  to  me  more  frequently  for  advice. 

With  the  best  possible  management,  the  thirty-first  of 
December,  1843,  found  me,  after  deducting  family  expenses 
and  interest  money,  with  a  small  inroad  made  on  the  capi 
tal.  It  found  me,  however,  in  good  health,  with  strong  cour 
age,  and  a  competent  knowledge  of  my  business,  no  longer 
dependent  on  my- junior  for  advice  or  suggestions.  There 
was  one  drawback  quite  unexpected.  On  commencing 
business,  I  felt  myself  fairly  entitled  to  a  first-rate  commer 
cial  credit.  Frequently  through  the  year,  I  discovered  there 
was  some  mysterious  influence  working  against  me.  I 
would  be  on  the  point  of  closing  some  advantageous  opera 
tion,  which  required  the  giving  of  our  acceptances  for  con 
siderable  amounts,  when  the  parties  would  return,  after  a 
little,  and  regret  that  they  could  not  enter  into  the  arrange 
ment — that  they  found  they  could  not  employ  our  paper  as 
they  anticipated,  and  so  forth.  Now,  I  had  reason  to  know 
that  we  stood  well  at  both  the  banks  where  we  did  business, 
and  further,  that  the  officers  of  both  these  institutions  did 
not  hesitate  to  speak  favorably  of  our  firm  when  applied  to. 
What  could  it  mean  ?  Was  there  a  snake  in  the  grass — a 
secret  foe — a  disappointed  creditor,  perhaps,  of  1 83 7  ?  After 
mentioning  these  facts  to  an  old  friend,  and  after  his  puzzling 
a  good  deal  over  it,  he  suddenly  exclaimed :  "Parkinson, 


OF      WALL-STREET.  If 

how  do  you  stand  at  the  Mercantile  Agency  ?"  "At  what?" 
said  I,  not  exactly  understanding  him.  "At  the  Mercantile 
Agency,"  he  repeated ;  "  what  I  call  our  '  Commercial  In 
telligence  Office.'  I  don't  know- what  we  should  do  with 
out  it,  though  sometimes  they  do  get  a  little  astray  there ; 
but  they  are  always  ready  to  correct  mistakes."  My  friend's 
suggestion  struck  me  as  a  very  probable  one,  and  I  wondered 
it  had  not  occurred  to  me.  I  requested  him,  therefore,  to 
obtain  a  report  of  the  standing  of  our  firm  at  the  agency 
aforesaid.  He  procured  it  the  next  day.  It  read  as  follows : 

"CHARLES  E.  PARKINSON  AND  COMPANY  (Charles  E. 
Parkinson  and  Edwin  A.  Rollins).  Wholesale  grocers, 
respectable  house,  in  fair  credit.  Established  1st  January, 
1843.  Parkinson  was  importer  of  silk  goods  prior  to  1837, 
and  failed.  Took  the  benefit  of  the  Bankrupt  Law.  Unac 
quainted  with  present  business ;  put  in  twenty -five  thousand 
dollars.  Nearly  all  borrowed  ($15,000  from  his  wife's  es 
tate),  and  which  will  probably  be  treated  as  confidential, 
should  he  fail.  Keeps  house,  and  lives  expensively.  Rol 
lins,  unmarried  man,  about  twenty-five,  brought  up  to  the 
business  in  the  concern  of  Powell,  Weatherby,  Keep  and 
Company.  Puts  in  three  thousand  dollars.  In  trade  for 
the  first  time  on  his  own  account.  Firm  doing  large  busi 
ness.  Mem.  (July,  1843):  said  to  have  made  some  heavy 
losses.  Mem.  (August,  1843):  Rollins  drives  a  good  deal 
on  the  road.  Supposed  to  own  a  very  handsome  turn-out." 

I  read  this  ex-parte  judgment  with  mingled  surprise  and 
indignation.  Scanning  it  with  more  scrutiny,  a  second  and 
a  third  time,  I  was  forced  into  a  train  of  philosophical  re 
flections.  After  all,  the  Mercantile  Agency  had  stated  but 


18  UNDERCURRENTS 

the  truth,  that  is,  mainly.  It  was  the  inferences  drawn  from 
the  facts  which  were  so  damaging.  Yet  the  inferences  were 
natural.  One  could  not  accuse  the  "Mercantile  Agency" 
of  any  malicious  intent.  Yes,  the  inferences  were  natural, 
but  mind  you,  reader,  they  were  FALSE.  And  I  had  been 
suffering  for  a  twelve  month  from  what  was  really  a  cruel 
and  a  slanderous  statement,  The  fifteen  thousand  dollars 
raised  by  mortgage  on  my  wife's  house,  was  absolutely 
given  to  me  for  capital.  No  evidence  of  indebtedness  was 
taken,  no  recognition  of  it  on  our  books,  otherwise  than  as 
cash  belonging  to  and  put  in  by  me.  The  debt  of  five  thou 
sand  dollars  to  my  friend  was,  as  I  have  before  stated,  actu 
ally  placed,  by  a  positive  understanding,  as  an  ordinary  in 
debtedness.  The  statement  that  I  had  made  some  bad  debts 
was  true ;  but  it  did  not  add,  what  was  more  essential,  that 
the  senior  partner,  myself,  was  a  strictly  business  man,  and 
had  gone  through  his  first  year  in  a  new  line,  with  little 
loss,  supporting  his  family  meanwhile,  and  gaining  a  thorough 
insight  into  affairs.  Again,  poor  Rollins  came  in  for  a  sharp 
hit,  in  the  way  of  driving  a  fast  team.  Now,  Rollins  was 
really  economical.  He  lived  with  and  supported  his  mother 
and  some  younger  brothers,  and  his  habits  were  unex 
ceptionable.  It  so  happened  that  a  wealthy  cousin  of 
Rollins's,  who  did  drive  a  pair  of  good  horses,  went  out 
of  town  for  nearly  all  the  month  of  August,  and  told  R.  he 
might  exercise  his  team  while  he  was  gone,  if  he  liked. — 
Rollins  had  informed  me  of  this,  and  I  believe  he  enjoyed 
his  drives  for  about  three  weeks,  and  resigned  his  "  turn 
out"  without  regret  on  his  cousin's  return.  Here,  again,  the 
Mercantile  Agency  had  stated  a  fact,  and  with  it  &  false  in- 


OF      W  A  L  L-STK  EET.  19 

ferencc.  However,  now  that  I  saw  where  the  difficulty  ex 
isted,  it  was  easy  to  remedy  it.  I  called  at  the  office  of  the 
"Agency"  with  two  influential  business  friends — "  undoubt 
ed"  names — and  went  into  an  entire  explanation.  It  was 
satisfactory.  The  statement  as  to  my  capital,  "  nearly  all 
borrowed,"  was  erased,  or,  rather,  a  new  statement  was 
prepared  and  entered  on  the  books,  quite  clear  and  to  the 
purpose.  Poor  Rollins' s  inexpensive  drives  were  no  longer 
marked  against  him.  In  short,  our  firm  stood  "  right"  on 
the  books,  and  we  were  thus  well  advertised.  We  had  no 
longer  any  difficulty  about  our  "  paper ;"  indeed,  we  now 
enjoyed  all  the  facilities  to  which  a  good  credit  entitled  us. 
And  here  permit  me  to  digress  a  little  in  order  to  say  a 
word  about  "  Mercantile  Agencies"  generally.  The  system, 
has  been  greatly  elaborated  since  1844.  Complete  method 
has  been  introduced  through  all  its  branches,  and  a  most 
unique  and  surprising  skill  is  displayed  in  the  information 
obtained,  and  in  the  general  characterizations.  The  enemies 
of  the  system  complain  that  it  produces  an  espionage  worse 
a  thousand-fold  than  that  under  a  European  despotism ;  that 
no  circumstance  of  private  or  domestic  life  is  safe  from  the 
prying,  eager  curiosity  of  these  keen  investigators,  who  are 
paid  well  for  gleaning ;  in  short,  that  the  whole  affair  is  a 
shame  and  a  scandal  to  a  free  country.  On  the  other  side, 
it  is  retorted,  that  no  honest  man  fears  to  have  the  veil 
drawn  aside  which  may  conceal  his  minutest  acts ;  that  such 
a  man  courts  investigation,  and  claims  to  be  judged  by  it ; 
and  that  those  only  are  opposed  to  the  plan  who  suffer  from 
having  the  truth  told  of  them.  Now,  my  view  of  the  ques 
tion  is  not  based  on  either  of  these  hypotheses.  It  seems 


20  U  N  D  E  E  C  U  BRENTS 

to  me  that  the  mischief  lies  in  another  direction.  The 
agency  undertakes  to  give  information  by  which  subscribers 
can  form  reliable  judgments  of  a  merchant's  responsibility, 
and  so  forth.  This  is  very  desirable,  and  if  the  agencies 
accomplish  this  they  certainly  render  a  service  to  the  com 
mercial  community.  But  the  truth  is,  we  do  not  form  an 
opinion  of  an  individual  so  much  from  certain  absolute  facts 
we  hear  of  him  as  from  his  general  reputation.  Every  man, 
every  firm,  every  incorporated  company  does,  in  some  way 
and  by  some  sure  process,  after  a  time,  acquire  a  general 
reputation — good,  bad  or  indifferent — for  which  one  would 
be  puzzled  to  state  any  reason  or  cause  whatever,  but  which 
is  true  in  ninety-nine  cases  of  a  hundred.  So  well  settled 
is  this,  that  our  courts,  when  a  person's  character  is  under 
investigation,  will  not  permit,  in  the  first  instance,  ques 
tions  to  be  asked  except  as  to  general  reputation.  The 
agencies,  with  the  best  intent,  doubtless,  busy  themselves 
with  picking  up  circumstances.  A  merchant  rushes  in  and 
reads  the  record ;  he  thus  goes  to  an  ex-parte  tribunal,  where 
reputation  is  manufactured  out  of  one  set  of  facts,  instead 
of  into  the  world,  where  currents  of  opinion  flow  free,  and 
where  truth  and  error  have  a  fair  field  fbr  contest.  If  any 
one  doubts  this,  let  him  look  at  the  "  record"  of  four  mer 
chants  out  of  five  who  fail,  and  he  will  find  that  these  mer 
chants  took  especial  pains  to  keep  that  record  fair.  My 
opinion  frankly  is,  that  these  agencies  have  their  growth  in 
our  great  desire  to  save  ourselves  the  trouble  of  forming  an 
opinion,  so  that  we  readily  welcome  one  manufactured  for 
us.  It  is  veiy  convenient  to  be  told  off-hand  what  really 
nobody  can  ever  know — whether  a  merchant  is  "  good"  or 


OF      WALL-STREET.  21 

not ;  and  I  believe  our  agencies  would  come  badly  off  to 
day  in  a  series  of  libel  suits,  one-half  of  which  should  be 
commenced  by  their  patrons  for  too  favorable  statements, 
whereby  those  patrons  lost  their  money ;  and  the  other  half 
by  the  subjects  of  mercantile  criticism,  whereby  such  sub 
jects  lost  their  credit.  I  refer  to  what  is  got  together  and 
reported  about  our  city  merchants.  As  to  the  reports  re 
corded  in  the  city  of  the  standing  of  people  through  all  the 
towns  and  villages  of  the  United  States,  I  reject  them  as 
generally  the  preparation  of  one  man  (in  each  place)  who  is 
biased  one  way  or  the  other,  so  that  he  returns  an  opinion 
either  much  too  severe  or  much  too  favorable,  and  by  which 
the  merchant  here  is  quite  sure  to  be  misled. 

To  return :  I  had  no  further  reason  to  complain  of  the 
"  Agency."  They  told  the  truth  about  me,  and  drew  no 
disagreeable  inferences.  Indeed,  after  a  while  they  began 
to  exaggerate  my  position,  for  on  the  day  I  failed  my  record 
stood  as  follows:  "First-rate  house.  Credit  A  1.  Thor 
oughly  up  in  their  business.  Large  capital :  said  to  be  at 
least  a  quarter  of  a  million.  Reported  to  have  cleared  over 
fifty  thousand  dollars  the  last  season  on  produce.  Very 
cautious  operators." 

Not  to  anticipate.  The  year  1844  was  for  us  the  com 
mencement  of  a  new  season  of  prosperity.  With  great 
assiduity  and  great  watchfulness  the  firm  retrieved  the 
losses  of  the  previous  year,  strengthened  its  credit,  changed 
some  important  details  in  the  mode  of  conducting  its  busi 
ness,  and  gradually  settled  on  a  prudent  and  safe  basis  of 
operations.  From  that  time  we  took  position  among  the 
"  leading  merchants." 


22  UNDEKCUKKENTS 

The  years  1845  and  1846  passed  very  happily;  yes,  very 
happily,  because  prosperously  and  without  drawback  of  any 
kind.  To  become  once  more  a  man  among  men.  To  en 
counter  an  acquaintance,  and  meet  his  scrutinizing  look 
with  an  air  of  conscious  strength  and  stability.  To  feel  that 
you  are  no  longer  exposed  to  the  humiliating  sympathy  of 
"  friends,"  or  the  silent  triumph  of  enemies.  To  be  assured 
that  you  form  again  a  part  and  portion  of  the  activity  which 
supports  and  moves  the  world;  that  you  are  of  consequence 
in  it,  and  recognized  accordingly,  recognized  by  old  com 
panions  with  whom  you  used  to  engage  in  various  affairs ; 
many  of  whom  sincerely  regretted  what  befell  you,  and 
honestly  rejoice  in  your  re-appearance  in  the  business  arena  ; 
who  shake  hands  with  you  with  a  smile,  and  a  look  as  much 
as  to  say :  "  I  knew  you  would  come  out  all  right.  Glad  to 
see  you  here."  To  pass  from  the  dreary  stupor  of  inactiv 
ity  to  fresh,  hopeful,  energetic  action;  to  plan  and  form 
combinations  ;  to  feel  yourself  gradually  and  surely  gaining 
ground ;  to  enjoy  the  healthful  happiness  of  an  ascending 
scale ;  to  get  on,  to  prosper,  to  again  grow  rich,  and  find 
every  thing  around  you  cheerful ;  to  witness  "  troops  of 
friends"  returning  to  range  once  more  under  your  banner, 
with  many  apologies  for  absence,  and  so  forth — apologies 
which  you  receive  very  amiably  (as  if  you  had  never  felt 
bitterness  of  heart,  and  gangrene,  and  hatred  on  their  ac 
count)  ;  which  you  not  only  receive  amiably  but  excuse, 
making  due  allowance  for  human  infirmities.  [You  forgive, 
and  your  misfortunes  are  forgiven,  but  see  to  it  that  you 
repeat  not  the  offence,  lest  a  worse  evil  overtake  you.]  To 
pass  through  all  this,  rising  meanwhile  till,  like  the  man  of 


OF      WALL-STREET.  23 

Uz,  your  possessions  greatly  exceed  their  former  propor 
tions.  Well!  life  is  worth  something  at  that.  How  agree- 
;il>le  to  have  money ;  how  pleasant  not  to  be  forced  to  cal 
culate  !  How  charming  for  us,  the  favored  few,  few  by  com 
parison,  to  express  a  wish  for  what  we  desire,  and  lo !  it  is 
supplied ;  to  plan  out  new  pleasures,  and  enter  into  their 
enjoyment ;  to  find  all  things  practicable,  all  things  yield 
ing  ;  to  encounter  smiles  and  approbation  everywhere ;  to 
find  every  avenue  smoothed  for  our  approach,  every  path 
made  pleasant.  Why  not  ?  Why  should  not  these  things 
be  desirable  and  acceptable,  and  very  enjoyable  ? 

So  in  the  midst  of  business  successes  and  social  delights, 
was  ushered  in  the  notable  season  of  1847.  Some,  perhaps, 
who  read  these  pages  have  cause  to  remember  that  memor 
able  year.  To  such  the  index,  "  1847,"  will  not  be  viewed 
without  emotion.  Nay,  to  those  who  date  from  it  the  be 
ginning  of,  to  them,  a  period  of  misery  and  misfortune,  of 
blight  and  calamity,  of  stagnation  of  soul  and  withering  up 
of  energy — leaving  them  walking  nonentities,  collapsed  and 
dwindling  gradually  away,  instead  of  living,  enterprising 
beings,  to  such  do  the  figures  "  1847"  appear  spectral ;  and 
when  seen  printed  here,  will  cause  a  shock  like  that  pro 
duced  by  some  fancied  apparition  from  the  dead.  .  .  . 

Thus,  as  I  said,  with  much  joyousness  and  merry-making, 
amid  Christmas  festivities  and  gayeties  and  frolics,  came  in 
the  crisis-year.  And  I  will  proceed  to  explain  how  I  hap 
pened  to  be  paying  two  dollars  a  week  for  desk-room  in  the 
basement  No.  —  Wall-street. 


24  U  N  D  E  II  CURRENTS 


CHAPTER    II. 

A    CLOUD     ON     THE     HORIZON. 

ON  the  first  day  of  January,  1847,  the  financial  condition 
of  these  United  States  was  "  most  satisfactory."  So  said 
leading  bank  presidents  and  directors  in  the  coteries  to 
which  they  severally  were  attached  ;  so  observed  the  prom 
inent  members  of  the  Stock  Exchange,  conversing  daily  be 
tween  the  "  boards  ;"  so  echoed  the  principal  merchants. 
Eminent  bankers  talked  soothingly  over  their  sherry  of  the 
"remarkable  prosperity  of  the  country."  With  the  second 
bottle  they  demonstrated  how  we  were  now  beyond  the 
reach  of  panic.  The  resources  of  our  land  were  so  great,  so 
various,  so  extraordinary,  and  its  extent  almost  illimitable. 
Such  room  for  development,  for  the  employment  of  capital, 
which  could  never  fail  in  returning  its  legitimate  increase. 
No,  thank  HEAVEN  !  we  were  at  last  on  a  sound  basis,  and 
none  but  the  most  reckless  need  fail  in  any  lawful  enter 
prise. 

Russell,  too,  was  of  the  same  opinion. 

There  was  not  even  a  speck  in  the  commercial  horizon 
giving  token  of  the  storm  which  was  so  soon  to  burst. 
Only  it  began  to  be  ascertained  that  the  failure  of  the  har 
vest  in  Great  Britain  (which  had  been  for  some  time  known) 
was  even  more  deplorable  than  at  first  reported  ;  and,  with 
the  blight  of  the  potato  in  Ireland,  there  was  threatened  for 


OF      WALL-STREET.  25 

that  unfortunate  isle  the  visitation  of  the  Angel  of  Death  in 
the  shape  of  FAMINE  !     But  to  most  people  this  served  as  an 
additional  argument  that  our  prosperity  was  founded  on  a 
rock.     We  should  find,  at  high  prices  and  gold  for  payment, 
a  market  for  all  our  surplus  breadstuff's.     Some,  unappalled 
by  the  terrible  calamity  which  threatened  a  friendly  nation, 
chuckled  over  the  news  brought  by  each  successive  steamer 
of  the  great  rise  in  the  prices  of  food ;  while  with  all  there 
was  an  ill-concealed  satisfaction  at  the  existing  condition  of 
things.     But  there  were  others  who  shook  their  heads,  and 
said  such  condition  was  unnatural ;  that  affairs  could  not  go 
on  ruinously  for  any  length  of  time  in  England  without  re 
acting  forcibly  here,  so  intimate  were  the  relations  between 
us ;  besides,  they  said,  an  unfortunate  state  of  affairs  in  one 
country  is  never  beneficial  to  another  country  with  which  it 
has  a  close  business  connection.     These  individuals  were  set 
down  as  croakers ;  people  who  were  behind  the  age ;  men 
with  antiquated  stage-coach  ideas.     The  great  majority  of 
moneyed  men  declared  that  the  country  was  in  a  most  pros 
perous  state,  and  accordingly  it  was  generally  so  accepted. 
To  come  to  my  own  affairs.     The  position  of  the  firm  of 
Charles  E.  Parkinson  and  Company,  on  that  same  first  of 
January,  was  essentially  and  absolutely  a  sound  one.     The 
year  after  I  commenced  business  anew,  my  mother  died. 
The  five  thousand  dollars  I  received  from  her  proved,  as 
was  anticipated,  to  be  about  what  I  was  entitled  to  from 
the   estate,    and   thus   that    was    settled.     I   had  within  a 
twelvemonth  repaid   my  friend  the  five   thousand  dollars 
borrowed  from  him.     It  was  indeed  so  much  in  reduction  of 

our  capital,  and  the  money  to  us  was  worth  much  more  than 
2 


26  u  N  r>  E  R .  c  u  ft  n  E  N  T  s 

seven  per  cent ;  but  something  whispered  to  me,  "  Pay  it !" 
and  I  did  so.  Strange  to  say,  mnny  years  later  this  circum- 
stnnce  proved  to  be  the  final  turning-point  in  my  earthly 
career.  Since  we  began,  our  capital  had  increased  from  the 
sum  of  twenty-eight  thousand  dollars,  as  the  reader  will 
recollect,  to  one  hundred  and  thirty-eight  thousand  seven 
hundred  and  sixty  dollars  in  stocks  and  assets,  after  deduct 
ing  all  probable  bad  debts  and  what  the  firm  owed.  In 
other  words,  that  was  our  "balance-sheet."  This  was  cer 
tainly  doing  well ;  at  the  same  time  we  had  acquired  the 
reputation  of  having  made  still  greater  gains,  so  true  is  it 
thnt  "to  him  who  hath  shall  be  given." 

T  was  one  of  the  few  who  were  not  carried  away  by  the 
excitement  consequent  on  the  great  rise  in  all  species  of 
produce.  I  believed  when,  stimulated  by  the  high  prices, 
the  north  of  Europe  began  to  pour  in  its  large  stores  of 
grain,  that  a  reaction  must  take  place,  especially  if  the 
coming  season  in  Great  Britain  promised  well.  For 
this  reason  I  did  not  permit  myself  to  be  tempted  into  a 
speculative  course,  in  which  my  neighbors  were  clearing 
large  sums  rapidly.  In  April  and  May  the  financial  distress 
in  England,  and  distress  from  hunger  in  Ireland,  were  very 
great.  An  American  government  store-ship,  loaded  with 
provisions,  was  sent  to  the  relief  of  the  Irish  people, 
thousands  of  whom  were  dying  from  starvation.  Still  were 
we  on  this  side  prosperous  ;  still  taking  in  gold  for  food  at 
high  prices  ;  still  counting  on  more  gold  at  higher  prices. 
About  the  first  of  June  these  prices  came  to  a  stand-still  in 
Europe.  From  the  ports  in  the  Baltic  rich  granaries  were 
shipped  to  the  British  Isles,  the  harvests  promised  well,  and 


OF      WALL-STREET.  27 

the  potato  appeared  to  be  without  blight.  We  were  then 
carried  into  the  summer  in  the  midst  of  a  great  speculation 
in  produce ;  with  falling  prices  in  Europe,  and  purchases 
and  contracts  maturing  here  ;  grain  shipped  to  a  tremen 
dous  extent,  bills  drawn  heavily  against  it ;  bankers,  ancient 
and  honorable  firms,  breaking  all  over  the  Continent,  all 
through  England,  Scotland  and  Ireland,  till  the  panic  there 
reaching  its  height,  the  market  here  became  utterly  de 
pressed,  and  bills  of  our  best  houses  were  floating  about  in 
all  directions,  offered  at  enormous  rates  without  buyers. 
Then  was  Wall-street  one  morning  taken  suddenly  aback 
by  the  refusal  of  some  of  the  largest  bankers  in  London  to 
honor  the  bills  drawn  on  them,  of  an  old  and  leading  house 
here  !  What  confusion,  what  consternation !  It  was  all  a 
mistake  :  oh  !  certainly  a  mistake  !  A  matter  of  precaution 
only,  till  the  arrival  of  the  next  steamer,  then  all  the  bills 
would  be  protected,  all  accounts  arranged,  and  every  thing 
be  put  right.  Just  wait  for  the  next  steamer. 

The  steamer  never  arrived  ! 

But  if  the  firm  of  Charles  E.  Parkinson  and  Company 
did  not  speculate,  what  had  it  to  fear  ?  Reader,  you  know 
little  of  commercial  affairs  if  you  suppose  in  times  of  gen 
eral  financial  distress  it  is  possible  for  any  house  engaged 
largely  in  business  to  escape  unscathed.  Quite  early  in  the 
season  I  attempted  to  act  with  great  prudence  and  circum 
spection.  I  came  to  the  conclusion  that  such  were  my  then 
business  relations  with  correspondents  in  the  South,  we 
should  undoubtedly  meet  with  large  losses.  I  was  pre 
pared  to  accept  this  as  the  "  fate  of  war  ;"  for  my  gains  had 
been  large.  During  the  summer  I  was  applied  to  by  a  lead- 


28  UNDERCURRENTS 

ing  banking-house  in  Wall-street  to  make  purchases  of  large 
quantities  of  grain  for  foreign  want ;  these  were  to  be  made 
through  the  West,  and  I  was  to  charge  a  certain  commission, 
and  receive  in  payment  bills  drawn  by  this  banking-house, 
on  Baring  Brothers  and  Company,  in  London.  Nothing- 
appeared  surer  or  safer.  The  produce  was  to  be  consigned 
to  the  Barings,  and  since  that  house  stood  so  high,  and  the 
drawers  themselves  were  so  undoubted,  I  did  not  consider 
it  a  risk.  For  all  that,  I  stopped  short  in  this  arrangement 
before  the  parties  had  finished  buying,  and  left  them  to 
select  another  agent.  This  was  in  consequence  of  the  dis 
heartening  news  brought  by  every  steamer.  Resolving  not 
to  make  another  business  transaction,  I  joined  my  family, 
who  were  at  Newport,  in  order  to  enjoy  some  relaxation.  I 
enjoyed  but  little.  Week  after  week  brought  intelligence 
more  and  more  gloomy.  I  determined  not  to  prolong  our 
stay,  but  that  we  would  all  go  to  town  the  first  of  Septem 
ber,  instead  of  my  going  in  alone.  I  cannot  say  I  experi 
enced  any  presentiment  of  coming  evil.  I  do  not  know 
why,  but  I  wanted  my  wife  and  children  around  me. 

On  Wednesday,  the  first  day  of  September,  in  the  after 
noon,  we  reached  our  handsome  house  in  Broadway,  a  little 
above  Bond-street.  How  pleasant  it  looked ;  that  dear, 
happy  home  !  By  evening  we  were  comfortably  installed. 
The  next  day  I  was  early  at  my  counting-rooms.  Affairs 
were  threatening,  but  I  maintained  a  courageous  self-reliance. 
I  believed,  although  I  might  be  considerably  damaged,  that 
I  should  weather  the  storm.  Rollins,  who  had  greatly  im 
proved  in  sagacity,  and  now  become  an  experienced  mer 
chant,  was  untiring  in  endeavoring  to  carry  out  my  sugges- 


OF      WALL- STREET.  29 

tions.  Things  were  no  worse  than  I  expected  to  find  them. 
Rollins  had  anticipated  one  or  two  very  important  steps 
which  I  had  proposed  to  take,  and  with  a  favorable  result. 
I  had  occasion  to  go  that  morning  to  Jersey  City,  with  ref 
erence  to  a  number  of  storage  receipts,  about  which  some 
question  had  been  raised,  and  I  told  Rollins  that  I  should 
not  return  to  the  counting-room,  but  would  go  directly 
home,  having  many  little  matters  to  look  after  at  the  house, 
and  I  requested  him  if  he  had  any  thing  of  importance  to 
communicate,  to  call  in  the  evening.  I  transacted  my  busi 
ness,  and  reached  my  house  with  spirits  much  improved, 
and  my  courage  a  good  deal  exalted.  The  children  wel 
comed  me  with  great  glee  as  I  entered.  Mamma  had  in 
vited  two  or  three  of  their  own  age  to  spend  the  evening 
with  them.  Besides,  young  Havens  was  coming ; — Miss 
Alice,  my  eldest,  was  nearly  sixteen,  and  did  not  appear 
vexed  at  this  last  announcement,  and  I  was  expected  to 
contribute  toward  the  entertainment,  I  smiled  with  a 
father's  pride  and  joy  as  I  beheld  the  glowing  countenances 
around  me.  There  was  nothing  which  whispered  to  me 
that  the  atmosphere  was  loaded  with  fatal  intelligence. 
How  happy  was  I  in  my  unconsciousness  ! 

At  dinner  we  were  all  animated.  I  partook  with  a  relish 
of  our  own  cheer,  and  was  gladdened  besides  by  a  bottle  of 
generous  wine  which  the  old  cellar  had  held  for  many  a  year. 
My  return  home,  a  favorable  business  day,  the  cheerful 
voices  of  my  wife  and  children,  a  good  dinner  and  the  fine 
old  Madeira  wine — all  combined  to  produce  a  comfortable 
and  confident  state  of  mind.  "  We  will  weather  it  yet,"  I 
exclaimed  aloud,  with  a  complacent  nod. 


30  UNDER CUK  RENTS 

There  were  some  young  people  gathered  in  the  parlor  in 
the  evening.  They  had  danced  a  quadrille ;  they  had  talked 
and  laughed.  Now  Alice  was  requested  to  sing.  She 
seated  herself  at  the  piano  and  began  one  of  the  gems  from 
Norma.  The  music  was  particularly  adapted  to  her  voice, 
and  as  the  tones  floated  through  the  room  I  was  gradually 
carried  away  by  the  abandon  of  the  air.  Insensibly  I  closed 
my  eyes  to  enjoy  it. 

Just  then  I  heard  the  door  open  ;  the  servant  pronounced: 
"  Mr.  Rollins,  sir."  I  looked  up.  Rollins  stood  before  me. 
He  was  very  pale,  but  otherwise  apparently  not  disturbed. 
He  betrayed  no  unusual  excitement.  "  I  want  to  speak  with 
you  a  moment,"  he  said.  I  rose  and  walked  with  him  as  far 
as  the  pillar  which  separates  the  parlors,  and  leaning  against 
it,  I  waited  for  him  to  speak.  Alice,  meantime  was  contin 
uing  the  song  from  Norm  a. 

"  Have  you  heard  the  news  ?"  he  said,  in  a  low  tone. 

"  What  news?"  I  replied. 

"  The  Caledonia  arrived  this  morning.  We  have  her  ad 
vices  by  telegraph.  Barings  have  refused  acceptance  of 
Wise  &  Go's  bills. 

"How  many  with  our  indorsement  must  be  still  out?" 

"  At  least  seventy  thousand  dollars." 

Alice  was  finishing  the  last  strain  of  that  delightful  air. 
With  the  last  strain  1  beheld  fading  away  like  a  dissolving 
view  those  beautiful  velvet  carpets ;  vanishing  the  fine  sofas, 
and  the  soft  couches,  and  handsome  furniture;  gone,  the 
rosewood  piano  ;  gone,  the  choice  damask  and  silver ;  gone, 
the  luxurious  board,  with  the  old  wines  and  delicious  liqueurs: 
and  the  house,  our  HOME — lost  is  the  house;  recorded 


O  F      W  A  L  L-S  T  REE  T.  31 

against  it  is  thai  mortgage  for  fifteen  thousand  dollars  and 
interest,  the  value  of  property  depressed,  and  we  in  the 
hands  of  a  prompt  creditor.  Oh!  why  had  I  not  paid  off 
that  mortgage  ?  Oh!  why?  Wife  and  children ;  yes,  wife 
and  children  remaining — but  to  suffer  what  discomfort,  what 
unhappiness,  possibly  what  destitution ! 

Not  one  quarter  of  a  minute  had  elapsed  since  Rollins's  an 
swer,  "At  least  seventy  thousand  dollars,"  yet,  behold,  how 
much  had  rushed  through  my  heated  brain !  I  turned,  for 
I  felt  a  soft  hand  on  my  arm — it  was  my  wife. 

"Charles,  what  is  it?" 

"At  present,  nothing ;  only  I  must  step  out  for  a  few  mo 
ments  with  Rollins." 

"  Papa,  papa,  where  are  you  going  ?  Come  back !  You 
are  always  running  away !" 


32  UNDERCURRENTS 


CHAPTER    III. 

WILL     THE     STORM    BURST? 

HAYING  gained  the  street,  I  proceeded  with  Rollins  to 
our  counting-room.  There  we  remained  till  long  after  mid 
night.  I  went  carefully  over  all  our  assets.  After  I  had 
left  in  the  morning  a  telegraphic  dispatch  had  arrived  an 
nouncing  the  failure  of  another  heavy  house  in  New  Orleans 
with  which  we  had  business  relations,  and  which  at  that 
time  was  largely  in  our  debt.  Under  the  shock  of  the  as 
tounding  news  from  Europe,  Rollins  did  not  think  to  men 
tion  this  at  the  house.  "  It  never  rains  but  it  pours,"  said  he 
with  an  air  of  forced  cheerfulness  as  he  handed  me  the  dis 
patch.  Rollins  even  then  had  no  idea  of  the  extremity  we 
were  in.  He  had  learned  to  trust  to  me  implicitly,  and  I 
believe  he  considered  me  beyond  the  reach  of  catastrophe. 
Therefore,  when  after  several  hours  of  careful  investigation, 
I  said,  "  Rollins,  the  firm  is  INSOLVENT,"  he  looked  at  me 
with  an  air  of  amazement. 

"  My  dear  sir,"  he  exclaimed,  "  why  do  you  take  such  a 
gloomy  view  of  our  position  ?  I  am  certain  the  next  steamer 
will  bring  intelligence  that  the  Barings  have  accepted  those 
bills.  Read  that,"  and  he  handed  me  the  journal  containing 
the  foreign  news.  I  did  read  as  follows : 

"  Corn  bills  to  a  large  amount,  drawn  by  Wise,  Dread 
nought  and  Company  on  Baring  Brothers  and  Company, 


O  F      W  A  LL-S  T  K  E  ET.  33 

have  been  refused  acceptance  by  the  latter  house,  in  conse 
quence  of  the  heavy  fall  in  bread-stuffs.  The  friends  of 
Wise,  Dreadnought  and  Company  have  interposed  to  pre 
vent  the  return  of  the  bills,  with  the  hope  of  arranging  for 
their  acceptance  before  the  sailing  of  the  next  steamer." 

"  Surely,"  continued  Rollins,  "  it  is  not  possible  that  so 
powerful  a  house  will  have  their  bills  sent  back.  It  is  a 
temporary  derangement  only ;  besides,  if  the  bills  do  come 
back,  they  will  protect  them :  they  must  protect  them  to 
the  extent  of  their  entire  means,  and  we  shall  not  suffer." 

"  The  house  of  Wise,  Dreadnought  and  Company,"  I 
replied,  "  will  stop  payment  in  a  week,  that  is,  on  the  arri 
val  of  the  next  steamer,  and  they  will  not  pay  ten  cents  on 
the  dollar " 

"  How  can  you  say  so,"  interrupted  Rollins,  "  with  no 
data  whatever  before  you  ?" 

"  Look  at  that !"  was  my  reply,  pointing  to  another  para 
graph,  which  stated  that  at  Limerick  cargoes  of  Indian  corn 
had  been  offered  for  their  freight  and  no  takers.  "  But,"  I 
continued,  "  all  surmises  are  idle  ;  let  us  prepare  for  the 
worst ;  meanwhile,  not  a  token  which  shall  indicate  the 
least  weakness  or  fear  of  the  result  on  our  part.  I  think  it 
best,  however,  to  tell  you  what  we  must,  in  my  opinion, 
come  to."  Rollins  would  not  listen  to  the  idea,  and  we 
shook  hands  at  the  door  of  our  warehouse,  our  routes  home 
ward  lying  in  different  directions,  with  the  understanding 
that  we  should  meet  early  next  morning. 

Since  I  quitted  my  house,  clouds  had  gathered,  a  storm 
had  commenced,  and  the  rain  was  falling,  with  gusts  of 

wind  sweeping  through  the  streets.     I  had  neither  over- 
2* 


34  TJ  N  D  E  R  C  U  R  K  E  X  T  S 

coat  nor  umbrella.  The  last  omnibus  had  gone  up.  Not  a 
carnage  on  the  stand  before  the  Astor.  I  was  left  to  make 
head  against  the  tempest  on  foot.  Ordinarily,  exposure  on 
such  occasions  braces  one  up  to  a  fine  degree  of  physical  resist 
ance,  and  produces  rather  an  agreeable  sensation  than  other 
wise.  But  on  that  night  I  was  supported  by  no  such  stim 
ulus.  I  tried  to  rally,  to  bring  my  manhood  to  bear  against 
the  blow  that  was  falling  ;  I  could  not  Suddenly  it  seemed 
to  me  as  if  I  was  weighed  down  by  a  prescience  which 
could  not  err,  against  which  no  resolution  was  sufficient.  I 
was  cowed  by  it.  The  enemy  were  upon  me,  and  my  hour 
was  come.  To  many  who  undertake  to  read  this  history, 
the  account  of  my  experience  will  present  no  feature  of  in 
terest  whatever.  Such  will  be  very  apt  to  turn  over  the 
page  in  search  of  matter  more  attractive.  But  I  feel  sure 
that,  with  others,  what  I  narrate  of  myself  will  find  a  sym 
pathetic  response  in  their  own  memories.  They  will  ac 
company  me  as  I  walked  that  night  slowly  homeward 
through  the  rain.  Fifty  years  old ;  recollections  of  the 
past  swelling  within  my  breast;  a  heavy  weight  —  that 
weight  which  poor  humanity  must  sooner  or  later  take  on 
itself  and  bear  —  oppressing  my  spirit;  walking  slowly 
homeward  a  bankrupt, 

"  CHAHLES  E.  PARKINSON  AND  COMPANY, 

B  A  N  K  R  U  P  T  S .  " 

I  read  the  letters  glaringly  displayed  as  I  passed  along.  I 
read  them  above,  below,  around  until  my  head  swam  and  I 
reeled,  walking  with  difficulty. 

How  little  do  the  majority  of  the  world  understand  the 
sensitiveness  of  the  merchant  as  to  his  credit,  of  his  keen 


OF      W  A  L  L  -  S  T  E  E  E  T  .  35 

appreciation  of  the  sacrednoss  of  a  business  obligation,  of 
the  horror  which  oppresses  him  at  the  bare  thought  of  "  sus 
pending."  How  little  is  known  at  times  of  his  desperate 
struggles  to  sustain  himself;  of  his  days  of  incessant  appli 
cation  ;  his  nights  of  sleepless  anxiety;  his  agony  at  the  ap 
proach  of  the  fatal  moment  when  he  must  submit  to  the 
first  protest. 

My  wife  came  to  the  door,  for  unconsciously  I  had  reached 
home,  had  mounted  the  steps  of  my  own  house  and  rung 
the  bell. 

"  I  thought  you  would  be  caught  in  the  rain,"  she  said, 
cheerfully,  "  and  I  have  every  thing  dry,  quite  ready  for  you. 
But  you  are  soaked  through  and  through,"  she  exclaimed, 
anxiously  surveying  me.  "  How  is  this  ?" 

"  There  were  no  carriages  to  be  had,  and  I  had  some  ways 
to  go." 

"  Never  mind,"  she  continued,  "  you  are  safe  back.  I 
began  to  be  anxious  about  you,  it  is  so  very  late.  But  I 
have  a  good  supper  ready ;  there  is  still  a  fire  in  the  kitchen, 
and  you  can  have  something  warm  if  you  like,  or  a  bottle  of 
your  old  wine — which  shall  it  be  ?" 

"  Let  it  be  the  wine ;  the  Scripture  says  it  '  cheereth  GOD 
and  man.'  Let  it  be  the  old  wine." 

Soon  I  had  effected  an  entire  change  of  garments,  and 
was  seated  at  the  table.  Yvrith  the  sudden  strain  on  my 
nerves  and  brain  by  the  untoward  news  of  the  morning,  and 
the  evening's  work,  I  had  become  absolutely  exhausted  in 
mind  and  body.  I  ate  with  the  voracity  of  a  famished  man, 
and  emptied  the  bottle  of  old  Madeira.  The  food  and  wine 
had  their  usual  effect.  The  stomach  fortified,  a  gleam  of 


36  U  N  D  E  11  C  U  K  K  E  N  T  S 

hope  lightened  my  soul.  When  I  had  finished  and  paused, 
quite  satisfied,  my  wife  came  close  to  me  and  laid  her  hand 
affectionately  on  my  shoulder,  and  said :  "  Now,  Charles, 
tell  me." 

I  raised  myself  quietly  from  the  seat,  took  her  hand  in 
both  of  mine,  and  with  something  of  my  old  courage  return 
ing,  I  said,  not  in  a  tone  dispirited,  but  with  a  degree  of 
self-reliance,  yet  kindly  and  almost  gently,  so  as  not  to  break 
it  with  too  much  abruptness :  "  Our  firm  will  have  to  stop  ! 
I  fear  we  are  insolvent !" 

"  That  is  bad  news,  indeed,"  said  my  wife,  without  a 
shadow  passing  over  her  face  ;  "  bad  news,  to  be  sure ;  and 
how  it  torments  you !  But  why,  after  all,  should  it  cause 
you  such  agony  as  I  see  it  does  ?  Remember  what  you  have 
done  already ;  and  you  are  young  yet,  in  the  very  prime  of 
life,  and  I  feel  certain  it  will  turn  out  better  than  you  now 
think." 

Precious  comforter ! 


OF     WALL-STREET.  37 


CHAPTER    IV. 

DISASTER. 

I  SLEPT  soundly. 

When  I  awoke  the  next  morning  the  sun  was  shining  in 
at  the  windows.  I  opened  my  eyes  under  a  complete  obliv 
ion  of  what  had  occurred  the  previous  day.  I  suppose  an 
eighth  of  a  minute  passed  in  this  happy  forgetfulness.  Then, 
sudden  as  a  flash  of  lightning  it  came  swiftly,  smiting  my 
heart,  crushing  me  as  with  a  sense  of  some  fearful,  undefined 
calamity — a  doomed  sense  of  impending  evil.  Gasping  for 
breath,  I  sprang  from  my  bed,  unable  to  bear  the  agony 
which  had  seized  on  me.  I  descended  to  the  breakfast-room. 
The  cheerful  voices  of  my  children  greeted  me.  They 
were  so  happy  to  get  back  to  their  dear  home  again.  Oh ! 
yes,  indeed,  and  various  were  the  plans  of  enjoyment  already 
formed  for  the  coming  season.  My  youngest,  as  I  entered, 
was  singing  with  great  animation  : 

"  Oh !  I  miss  you,  NETTY  MORE, 
And  my  happiness  is  o'er, 
And  a  spirit  sad  around  my  heart  has  come;" 

and  Master  Charles  ran  up  to  me,  exclaiming :  "  Papa,  what 
do  you  think ;  I  met  Johnny  Satterlee  on  the  side-walk  this 
morning,  and  he  says  his  father  has  failed,  and  they  are  go 
ing  to  sell  their  house  and  move  into  the  country.  What 


38  UNDP:  EC  TIE  BENTS 

did  his  father  want  to  fail  for,  papa  ?     You  wont  fail,  will 
you,  papa  ?" 

"We  spent  a  silent  half-hour  at  the  breakfast-table.  Then 
I  quitted  ray  house  and  hastened  to  the  counting-room.  We 
read  of  the  nervous  consciousness  of  guilt,  and  how  the 
criminal,  still  free,  fancies  as  he  walks  abroad  that  all  eyes 
are  upon  him.  It  was  so  with  me  that  morning.  When  an 
acquaintance  saluted  me  in  the  street  with  the  usual  free 
and  hearty  greeting,  I  felt  self-condemned  before  him,  as  if 
I  were  sailing  under  false  colors.  It  seemed  as  if  I  ought 
to  say :  "  I  perceive  you  know  nothing  about  it ;  but,  sir,  I 
am  insolvent."  On  the  corner  of  Broadway  and  Wall-street 
I  met  the  President  of  the  Bank  of  Credit.  He  stopped  to 
shake  hands  with  me,  and  inquired  the  news. 

"  You  will  have  some  pretty  severe  rubs,  I  apprehend." 
"  I  suppose  so,"  I  rejoined.     "  What  do  you  think  of  the 
situation  of  Wise,  Dreadnought  &  Company?" 

"  To  you  I  will  say  they  are  in  a  very  bad  condition.  I 
presume  you  are  interested,  but  I  hope  not  largely." 
"  Too  largely  for  it  to  be  agreeable.  Good  morning." 
A  little  farther  on  I  encountered  Russell — the  last  one 
in  the  world  I  should  have  wished  to  meet.  I  discerned 
him  a  long  way  off.  As  he  approached  he  looked  at  me,  as 
I  thought,  with  an  inquisitive,  prying  gaze.  "How  are 
you,  Parkinson?"  he  exclaimed  in  his  tone  of  vulgar 
complacency.  "Rather  stirring  times  with  you  produce 
gentlemen,  eh  ?  I  suppose  you  are  all  right.  Mind,  it  wont 
do  to  speculate — I  always  said  so.  I  always  stick  to  my 
legitimate  business  (collecting  his  wife's  rents)  and  I  don't 
fail." 


OF      AV  A  L  L-  S  T  B  E  E  T  .  39 

He  passed  on.  As  I  turned  the  corner  of  Wall  and  Wil 
liam  streets  I  heard  the  voices  of  two  persons  in  conversa 
tion  behind  me.  I  caught  the  following : 

"  Wont  Parkinson  be  a  tremendous  loser  if  Wise's  bills 
do  come  back  ?  Can  he  stand  it  ?" 

"  Well,"  was  the  answer,  "  he  had  a  good  many  of  those 
bills;  but  I  tell  you,  his  house  is  firm  as  a  rock — could  lose 
seventy-five  thousand  dollars  and  not  feel  it.  I  happen  to 
have  confidential  means  of  knowing  they  are  worth  a  quarter 
of  a  million." 

In  my  intercourse  with  business  men  on  'Change,  I  found 
the  mercantile  community  greatly  excited,  discussing  the 
probabilities  of  the  acceptance  or  rejection  of  Wise,  Dread 
nought  and  Company's  bills ;  for  on  it  turned  not  alone  the 
fate  of  Charles  E.  Parkinson  and  Company,  but  of  the  old 
banking-house  of  Wise,  Dreadnought  and  Company  itself, 
and  with  it  of  hundreds  of  other  firms  or  individuals. 

An  old-established  banking-house !  What  associations  of 
stability  and  strength  gather  around  its  name.  How  the 
senior  member  is  regarded  as  he  moves  along  the  street ; 
how  polite  are  bank  presidents  ;  how  obsequious  bank  cash 
iers  to  him.  And  yet  that  man  and  his  "  house"  may  have 
been  actually  insolvent  for  years,  sustained  entirely  by 
CREDIT — by  the  value  which  habit,  prescription  and  confi 
dence  have  attached  to  his  signature  !  In  that  year  of  our 
LORD  eighteen  hundred  and  forty-seven,  one  eminent  Lon 
don  house  stopped  payment,  and  it  was  ascertained  on  ex 
amination  that  the  concern  had  been  bankrupt  over  forty 
years.  Others  failed  whose  statements  showed  that  for  sev 
eral  years  at  least,  they  had  been  absolutely  worth  less  than 


40  UNDERCURRENTS 

nothing;  each  member  all  that  time  living  in  purgatory, 
hoping  each  season  to  recover  the  lost  ground ! 

[Reader!  whoever  thou  art:  whether  seated  on  some 
luxurious  couch  within  reach  of  the  satin  bell-cord,  which 
shall  summon  a  servant  to  do  thy  bidding,  a  woman  fair  and 
beautiful,  knowing  not  the  sense  of  the  word  ADVERSITY, 
having  at  command  all  which  thy  heart  desires ;  or  some 
successful  banker,  or  a  well-to-do  merchant  or  broker,  hear 
me.  Ye  know  not  what  a  day  may  bring  forth  !  Hear  me ! 
—me  who  in  Wall-street  for  long,  long  years  have  suffered 
agonies  indescribable,  who  have  experienced  there  all  that 
can  belong  to  the  lot  of  man  to  undergo,  as  much  certainly 
as  humanity  can  bear— hear  me,  I  repeat.  The  record  I 
indite  is  genuine  ;  and  in  this  history  of  mine,  called  by  my 
editor  "  The  History  of  Charles  Elias  Parkinson"  (the  his 
tory  is  true  and  the  name  assumed),  I. shall  lay  bare  what 
transpires  in  the  business  routine  of  New  York.  I  shall 
speak  of  evils  which  are  potent  and  pestilent  therein :  I 
shall  visit  the  counting-room  of  the  merchant,  the  office  of 
the  broker,  the  cabinet  of  the  bank-officers,  and  touching 
them  on  the  shoulder,  shall  say,  I  am  not  in  your  power ;  I 
am  about  to  tell  what  is  true  about  myself,  and  in  so  doing, 
I  shall  not  spare  you.  Now  to  all— the  fair  woman,  the 
sleek  man  of  wealth,  the  banker,  the  broker— I  proclaim 
the  fact,  that  there  is  nothing  which  should  make  the  posi 
tion  of  any  one  of  you  assured  for  the  coming  day.]* 

I  suffered  the  torture  of  eight  days'  delay,  during  which 
time  I  could  form  little  idea  of  what  would  transpire  beyond 

*  What  appears  in  brackets  has  been  interlined  by  Mr.  PAKKIXSOX   himself  in  the 
editor's  original  MS. 


OF      WALL-STREET.  41 

my  own  conviction  of  an  untoward  result.  At  last  I  called 
on  Mr,  Wise,  hoping  to  ascertain  something.  He  was  not 
in,  neither  was  Mr.  Dreadnought.  The  junior  partner, 
however,  assured  me  he  hoped  all  would  end  well ;  but 
there  was  something  in  his  manner  which  gave  the  lie  to 
his  words.  I  was  determined  to  see  Mr.  Wise.  After  call 
ing  several  times  I  did  see  him.  I  repeated  my  question  as 
to  the  probability  of  the  bills  I  held  being  protested.  The 
answer  was  still  more  vague  and  uncertain  than  that  given 
by  the  junior  partner. 

"  Mr.  Wise,"  I  remarked,  *'  at  what  rate  will  you  settle 
these  bills  with  me  on  the  supposition  they  have  not  been 
accepted  ?" 

"I  could  not  think  of  so  uncommercial  a  transaction,"  he 
replied. 

"Mr.  Wise,"  I  retorted  perfectly  calm,  "as  a  commer 
cial  transaction  I  will  take  seventy-five  cents  on  the  dollar, 
protect  the  bills  and  release  you." 

The  color  rushed  to  the  face  of  the  banker  till  it  was 
crimson.  A  composition  offered  to  their  house :  the  great 
house  of  Wise,  Dreadnought  and  Company ! 

"  I  repeat  I  cannot  listen  to  a  proposition  so  out  of  the 
common  course." 

"  Mr.  Wise,  I  will  take  fifty  cents  !" 

The  banker,  thus  bearded,  made  a  motion  toward  his 
cashier's  desk,  as  if  to  close  with  me,  but  checked  himself 
and  replied :  "  Mr.  Parkinson,  Wise,  Dreadnought  arid 
Company  have  not  stopped  payment ;  if  they  do  not  sus 
pend,  they  certainly  will  not  permit  you  to  lose  through 
them:  and  if  they  do  stop,  you  yourself  must  acknowledge 


42  U  N  D  E  B  C  U  E  K  E  N  T  S 

the  injustice  of  their  selecting  your  house  and  settling  with 
you  on  an  imaginary  basis  before  a  correct  one  has  been  as 
certained." 

It  was  my  turn  to  blush.  I  looked  at  Mr.  Wise  and  I 
saw  by  his  troubled  eye,  and  a  certain  nervousness  which, 
while  he  had  sufficient  self-control  to  repress,  was  in  a  de 
gree  manifest,  that  he  was  Buffering  from  an  agony  of  spirit 
much  stronger  than  my  own. 

"  I  am  wrong,"  I  exclaimed  with  some  warmth.  "  You 
must  make  allowance  for  my  critical  position " 

"  And  for  mine"  interrupted  Mr.  Wise. 

"  I  see  it  ALL,"  I  .answered  ;  "  good  morning." 

I  returned  to  my  counting-room.  The  steamer  would  be 
due  the  next  or  the  following  day.  It  was  a  Xew  York 
boat,  and  the  news  would  not  be  anticipated  by  telegraph. 
To  me  it  was  now  of  little  consequence.  My  interview 
with  Mr.  Wise  had  settled  the  question  about  the  bills.  It 
was  time  for  me  to  put  my  house  in  order ;  to  see  as  near  as 
possible  where  I  stood.  That  had  been  my  labor  ever  since 
I  came  back  from  Newport ;  but  every  mail  from  the  West 
and  South  changed  the  aspect  of  affairs,  bringing  letters 
still  more  disastrous.  My  correspondents  too  had  specu 
lated  on  my  credit,  and  had  managed  to  deceive  me  as  to 
the  extent  of  their  operations.  I  say,  I  returned  from 
Wise,  Dreadnought  and  Company  to  my  counting-room, 
and  endeavored  in  brief  to  ascertain  what  if  any  thing  was 
left  of  the  one  hundred  and  thirty-eight  thousand  seven 
hundred  and  sixty  dollars  which  on  the  lirst  day  of  January 
of  that  same  year  stood  to  the  credit  of  our  concern  as  cap 
ital.  My  failure  in  1837  was  so  much  a  part  and  parcel  of 


O  F      W  A  L  L  -  S  T  It  E  E  T .  43 

the  universal  bankruptcy  of  the  land,  that  I  never  realized 
in  its  utter  and  extreme  extent  the  chagrin  and  mortifica 
tion  of  stopping  payment.     In  a  general  calamity  there  was 
a  salvo  to  wounded  pride ;  besides,  I  was  at  that  time  of  an 
age  not  to  be  cast  down  or  discouraged.     The  crisis  of  1847 
was  more  special ;  sudden  indeed,  involving  a  large  portion 
of  the  community,  but  after  all  not  so   extensive,  so  pros 
trating,  so  excusable.     Therefore  when  I  sat  down  to  ex 
amine    vvhat  had  become  of  our  one  hundred  and  thirty- 
eight  thousand  seven  hundred  and  sixty  dollars,  I  appreci 
ated  fully  for  the  first  time  in  my  life  the  force  of  the  asser 
tion  :  "Riches  take  to   themselves  witiys."     What  had  be 
come  of  our  capital  ?  that  was  the  question.     Of  regular 
business  debts  due  to  us  I  had  made  in  our  inventory  a  lib 
eral  allowance  for  losses.     Here  my  account  was  not  dimin 
ished.     Quite  as  much  had  been  collected  since  the  first  of 
January  as  I  had  calculated  on,  but  we  had  smTered  severely 
since  then,  by  the  failure  of  two  of  our   best    customers, 
whom  we  regarded   as  undoubted,  and  trusted  to   a  large 
amount.     Their  paper  had  been  discounted  at  the  bank, 
and  would  soon  commence  to  mature,  and  would  have  to  be 
protected.     Other  debts  which  I  still  considered  good,  re 
quired  indulgence.     Some  of  these  notes  were  also  under 
discount,  and  for  present  emergency  were  of  no  more  avail 
than  if  the  makers  had  suspended.     On  this  scrutinizing 
examination,  this  boiling  down  of  assets  to  ascertain  really 
what  was  available,  I  felt  more  forcibly  than  ever  that  in 
Mu-li  a  process,  all  that  one  owes  must  be   counted  as   so 
much  against  him  payable  in  gold,  and  what  one  owns  must 
be  valued  only  at  the  amount  at  which  it  can  be  converted 


44  UNDERCURRENTS 

into  gold.  This  is  one  secret  of  the  mysterious  melting  away 
of  a  man's  means  on  his  failure,  and  consequent  loss  of  credit. 
So  long  as  he  is  pursuing  his  business  career  his  assets  are 
valuable  (because  available)  to  him  for  their  face  ;  he  knows 
how  to  use  them  to  advantage,  and  to  nurse  what  requires 
attention.  When  he  stops,  every  thing  tells  against  him ; 
his  weak  debtors  take  advantage  of  his  position,  doubtful 
debts  become  bad,  and  many  good  ones  doubtful.  I  say  I 
never  felt  before  the  truth  of  these  self-evident  business 
propositions,  until  looking  carefully  over  my  affairs  the  real 
state  of  things  stared  me  in  the  face.  The  seventy  thous 
and  dollars  of  Wise,  Dreadnought  and  Company's  bills 
would  all  be  back  on  us  to  take  up  within  three  weeks. 
Several  thousand  to-morrow  or  the  clay  after.  Lewen  and 
Company's  notes  coming  due  Saturday  must  be  protected. 
Ell  wise  and  Company  must  have  an  extension  or  go  to  pro 
test  :  discounted  also.  So  must  Dexter.  Liscombe  and  Com 
pany  had  consigned  to  us  a  large  quantity  of  gunny  bags, 
on  which  wTe  had  advanced  our  acceptances  for  not  quite 
three-fourths  of  their  then  market  vralue.  This  article  had 
fallen  with  the  grain-market,  and  was  almost  unsalable  at 
one  half  of  the  original  invoice,  and  Liscombe  and  Company 
had  failed.  With  all  this  against  us  I  felt  that  we  might 
push  through  with  entire  loss  of  capital  doubtless,  but  with 
a  business  position  unscathed  were  it  not  for  the  blow  at 
our  credit  consequent  on  our  transactions  with  Wise,  Dread 
nought  and  Company.  Our  two  banks  I  knew  would  not 
sustain  us  in  face  of  the  failure  of  that  house,  and  unless  we 
were  largely,  very  largely,  sustained,  we  were  gone. 

Rollins  had  left,  too  well  satisfied  that  there  was  no  hope 


OF      WALL-STREET.  45 

for  us ;  I  had  requested  him  to  go  to  my  house  to  dinner, 
and  say  that  I  should  not  be  home  till  in  the  evening.  No 
one  remained  at  the  store  except  the  porter,  who  used  to  be 
in  my  employ  when  I  was  a  successful  silk-merchant.  I 
bid  him  light  the  gas.  I  went  resolutely  over  the  figures 
again : 

Seventy  thousand  dollars  with  ten  per 

cent  damages, $77,000 

Lewen  and  Company,  .......  11,300 

Tighe  and  Lenan, 13,700 

Liscombe  and  Company,  gunny  bags,      .  5,600 

Other  bad  debts  (at  least), 17,000 


$124,600 

One  hundred  and  twenty-four  thousand  six  hundred  dol 
lars  nearly  a  dead  loss,  beside  depreciation  of  stock  and 
complications  with  correspondents.  The  slight  per-centage 
which  ultimately  might  be  paid  could  scarcely  be  taken  into 
account,  Again,  this  sum  was  not  only  lost  to  me,  but  that 
amount  being  nearly  all  under  discount  and  all  going  to  pro 
test,  I  had  the  sum  to  raise  in  cash  from  my  assets  if  I  would 
preserve  my  credit,  and  that  within  a  few  weeks.  I  knew 
it  to  be  impossible. 

I  sat  half  an  hour,  my  head  resting  on  my  hand ;  my 
thoughts  busy,  very  busy.  They  went  back  to  the  period 
of  my  childhood.  I  am  not  a  native  of  New  York.  I 
came  here  from  Rhode  Island  when  I  was  a  young  man. 
My  early  associations  therefore  are  not  of  the  city.  My 
early  friendships  not  here.  I  had  no  family  ties  here,  for  my 
wife  was  herself  from  my  own  native  place.  We  had 


46  U  N  D  E  R  C  U  K  K  E  X  T  S 

grown  up  together,  and  had  journeyed  through  life  in  the 
closest  sympathy.  Thus,  although  I  had  a  large  circle  of 
friends  and  acquaintances,  yet  I  had  not  for  protection  the 
shield  of  FAMILY  CONNECTION,  which  is  so  potent  when  ad 
versity  overtakes  one.  I  often  used  to  think  of  this,  and 
almost  envy  the  lot  of  those  who  were  surrounded  by 
parents,  brothers,  sisters,  cousins  :  a  network  of  relations 
firmly  woven  around  them. 

So  I  sat,  my  head  resting  on  my  hand,  revolving  the 
events  of  my  past  life.  Thinking  of  my  boyhood:  how  ac 
tive  and  fresh  was  my  boyhood  !  of  my  father  and  mother. 
How,  after  a  life  of  honorable  usefulness,  they  had  gone  to 
their  rest,  My  father's  salutary  counsel  sounded  in  my  ears 
once  more.  I  heard  afresh  my  mother's  tender  advice. 
Well,  I  had  worked  hard.  The  battle  of  life  had  been  a 
sharp  one,  and  I  had  lost.  I  rose  and  looked  into  a  mirror 
which  was  placed  over  the  mantel-piece.  There  is  a  way 
of  doing  this  quite  different  from'  the  ordinary  habit.  In 
stead  of  the  complacent  or  important  or  scrutinizing  air  em 
ployed  ordinarily  when  before  a  glass,  for  the  purpose  of 
adjusting  the  dress,  or  confirming  a  satisfactory  opinion,  or 
looking  after  some  little  obstruction  ;  I  say,  instead  of  this, 
go  before  it  and  regard  yourself  there.  Ask  the  question  : 
"  Watchman,  what  of  the  night  ?"  "  Oh !  there  you  are, 
met  at  last !  what  have  you  been  doing,  what  are  you 
doing  ?  Dare  you  two  look  each  other  long  in  the  face  ?" 
Thus,  you  see  your  SOUL  gazing  out  at  you  through  the  two 
eyes.  In  this  manner  standing  up  before  the  mirror  I  was 
regarded  by  myself.  There  was  a  man  who  looked  much 
older  than  fifty,  whose  hair  was  becoming  very  gray  and 


OF      W  A  L  L  -  S  T  R  E  E  T  .  47 

thin.     Care,  anxiety,  weariness,  were  exhibited  in  the  brow 
and  over  the  countenance.     Said  the  soul  out  of  the  glass : 

"  Well,  my  companion,  at  last  we  have  come  to  this,  with 
worse  before  us." 

"  Do  not  be  severe  :  do  not  regard  me  in  such  an  awful 
manner,"  was  the  reply. 

"You  have  not  used  me  altogether  as  you  should." 

"  Neither  have  I  spared  myself.  Do  you  remember  how 
pleasantly  we  used  to  gaze  at  each  other  when  we  were 
young  ?" 

"  Yes  ;  I  do  remember." 

"  Let  us  try  to  be  young  again." 

"  Impossible." 

Was  it  indeed  so  ?  Never  to  be  young  any  more  !  Never  " 
any  more  to  have  a  fresh,  joyous,  impulsive  feeling !  From 
this  time  forward  to  be  chained  to  adversity  till  death 
should  release  me  !  Then  I  thought  how  I  had  omitted,  of 
late  years,  to  cultivate  the  morale  of  my  nature :  that  part 
which  should  survive  misfortune  and  calamity  —  my  man 
hood!  I  had  been  too  much  carried  away  by  the  material 
success  of  the  past  four  years.  I  had  placed  too  much 
value  on  becoming  rich.  Yes:  I  began  to  see  it.  Then  I 
thought  over  the  list  of  my  friends — what  would  they  say 
when  they  heard  of  my  failure  ?  What  would  every  body 
say  ?  How  could  I  look  people  in  the  face  ?  I,  who  was 
regarded  as  so  "  undoubted  :"  whose  credit  was  "  good  for 
any  amount."  Wouldn't  folks  eye  me  curiously  and  ex 
claim  :  "  There's  Parkinson,  whom  all  the  world  thought  so 
good.  What  a  burst  up  !"  By  a  strong  effort  I  seated 
myself  and  tried  to  bring  philosophy  to  my  aid,  and  en- 


48  U  N  D  E  B  C  U  K  R  E  N  T  S 

deavored  to  regard  my  position  calmly.  But  I  could  not  be 
calm.  A  nervous  feeling  had  possession  of  me.  I  rose  again, 
again  I  looked  in  the  mirror.  I  was  startled  by  seeing  the 
figure  of  a  man  reflected  in  it.  I  turned  and  beheld  Wil 
liams  our  porter.  I  have  already  mentioned  that  he  had 
served  me  in  the  same  capacity  when  I  was  first  in  business. 
He  was  about  my  own  age,  and  had  by  honest  attention  to 
his  duties  brought  up  his  family  comfortably,  and  besides 
placed  quite  a  sum  in  the  savings  bank.  He  was  remarka 
ble  for  honesty,  and  was  a  very  conscientious  member  of 
the  Methodist  Church :  the  trust  we  reposed  in  him  was 
great.  He  was  a  favorite  at  our  house,  and  my  children 
really  loved  him.  In  short,  Williams  had  identified  himself 
entirely  with  "us.  This  was  the  man  whose  reflection  in  the 
glass  caused  me  to  turn." 

"Mr.  Parkinson,"  said  Williams,  "  I  have  no  right  to  say 
it,  but  I  see  you  are  in  trouble.  I  wish  I  could  help :  I  know 
I  can't.  But  there  comes  a  time  to  every  body  under  heaven 
when  it  does  'cm  good  to  hear  a  friendly  voice ;  and  my 
voice  is  friendly,  Mr.  Parkinson  :  it  is  friendly." 

I  took  the  man's  hand  in  mine  and  pressed  it  warmly.  I 
could  not  speak.  Williams  continued  : 

"  It  isn't  for  me  to  give  counsel,  but  if  things  be  going 
wrong,  I  say  if  they  be  going  wrong,  Mr.  Parkinson,  take  my 
advice  and  don't  make  a  beggar  of  yourself.  It's  no  use. 
Nobody  will  thank  you  for  it.  'Tan't  honest  nor  just  to 
your  wife  nor  them  young  children.  I  know  what  you 
would  say  about  your  property  belonging  to  the  creditors. 
Now  I  try  to  think  right  and  to  be  honest  myself,  ami  I 
don't  allow  that  any  man  has  any  lawful  right  to  make  a 


OF      WALL-STREET.  49 

pauper  of  himself,  because  then  he  has  no  power  to  help 
himself  or  any  body  else.  If  you  want  to  pay  all  off,  you 
mustn't  put  yourself  where  you  can't  earn  any  thing.  There 
was  poor  Mr.  Hazlewood  who  failed  last  year.  You  remem 
ber  the  auction  at  his  house ;  lie  would  have  every  thing 
sold ;  then  he  took  a  small  tenement  at  Harlem ;  he  died 
last  Monday ;  broke  his  heart ;  tried  to  get  into  business 
again  ;  couldn't  get  credit ;  those  who  used  to  sell  him  said  : 
'  We  have  got  our  pay,  we  won't  risk  any  more. '  So  it 
clean  broke  his  heart,  I  attended  his  funeral  yesterday; 
leaves  a  wife  and  six  children.  GOD  knows  what  they  will 
do." 

"  Thank  you,  Williams,  thank  you.  We  shall  see,  and 
endeavor  to  do  for  the  best." 

"  Don't  think  me  too  plain-spoken,"  said  Williams.  "  I 
couldn't  help  it,  it  would  come  out.  Shall  we  lock  up, 

sir  ?" 

The  good  creature  did  not  want  me  to  stay  any  longer  in 
my  dismal  solitude. 

"  Yes  ;  lock  up,  and  bring  my  letters  to  the  house  early 
in  the  morning." 

"  If  those  bills  should  after  all  turn  out  right !"  I  said  to 
myself  as  I  walked  up  the  street.  The  very  thought  caused 
my  heart  to  beat  quick.  It  was  a  glimpse  back  into  the 
heaven  from  which  I  had  been  thrust  out. 


50  UNDERCURRENTS 


CHAPTER    Y. 

ATTEMPTS    AT     COMPEOMISE. 

THE  steamer  was  in.  Wise,  Dreadnought  and  Company's 
bills  returned.  A  panic  in  Wall-street.  A  card  from  Wise, 
Dreadnought  and  Company  announcing  that  they  deemed 
it  best  to  suspend,  from  prudential  motives,  hoped  it  would 
be  but  temporary,  and  so  forth.  Some  were  led  by  it  still 
to  have  confidence  that  the  house  would  go  on,  but  I  knew 
it  was  only  to  soften  the  fall.  I  had  passed  through  my 
panic.  Now  that  the  blow  had  Mien,  my  spirit  had  re 
covered  its  natural  tone  and  vigor.  I  was  no  longer  cowed 
by  a  slavish  apprehension.  I  had  gone  to  protest.  None 
but  the  merchant,  proud  and  sensitive  of  his  credit,  can 
properly  appreciate  the  intense  agony  which  reaches  its 
acme  as  three  o'clock  approaches,  after  which,  when  all  is 
over,  comes  a  sensation  of  relief  and  relaxation. 

I  had  determined  what  course  to  pursue.  Looking  care 
fully  again  and  again  at  our  exact  situation,  it  seemed  to  me 
if  I  could  have  the  control  of  my  own  aifairs  I  might  possi 
bly  pay  our  debts  in  full,  of  course  with  the  entire  loss  of 
our  capital.  I  determined  therefore  to  prepare  a  clear 
statement  and  submit  it  to  my  creditors,  and  after  showing 
them  exactly  our  position,  to  request  them  to  take  seventy- 
five  cents  on  the  dollar,  reasonably  extending  time  for  pay 
ment  of  that  sum  by  installments.  I  would  add  my  honora- 


OF      WALL-STREET.  51 

ble  assurance  to  all,  that  if  my  life  was  spared  it  was  my 
intention  to  pay  the  whole. 

If  you  would  test  the  different  natures  and  dispositions 
and  temperaments  of  men,  go  around  among  a  set  of  cred 
itors  seeking  for  a  compromise,  either  on  your  own  ac 
count  or  for  a  friend.  After  preparing  myself  carefully,  I 
undertook  the  task.  I  had  first  to  overcome  with  nearly 
every  one  the  idea  that  I  was  worth  at  least  a  quarter  of  a 
million,  and  where  was  it  ?  It  was  a  prima-facie  case  of 
some  improper  or  reckless  management,  for  the  "  mercantile 
agency"  reported  me  worth  that  amount,  and  it  was  very 
accurate  authority.  It  never  occurred  to  these  good  people 
that  here  was  an  instance  where  the  mercantile  agency  was 
not  accurate.  However,  I  will  not  say  that  this  proved  a 
serious  impediment.  My  accounts  were  very  clear,  my 
course  of  business  legitimate,  my  conduct  irreproachable, 
and  these  did  carry  conviction  along  with  them.  I  was 
frank,  too,  in  stating  that  I  hoped  to  save  something  to  work 
with  beyond  the  seventy-five  cents  offered,  and  I  believed  it 
was  better  for  my  creditors  as  well  as  for  myself  that  I 
should  do  so,  because  if  forced  into  an  assignment  I  feared 
our  assets  would  scarcely  realize  fifty  cents. 

With  the  necessary  documents  prepared  I  started  on  my 
visit  to  the  various  creditors.  The  president  of  the  Bank 
of  Credit  assured  me  of  the  favorable  disposition  of  the  di 
rectors,  and  bade  me  rely  on  it  there  would  be  no  difficulty 
with  them.  The  president  of  the  Bank  of  the  World  said 
nearly  the  same,  but  in  a  tone  rather  more  guarded.  He 
would  submit  our  proposition,  and  he  believed  it  would  be 
favorably  acted  on. 


52  UNDERCURRENTS 

I  then  went  to  Longstreet  and  Company,  a  large  tea  house, 
who  held  a  considerable  amount  of  our  paper.  This  house 
I  had  known  less  of  than  any  other  with  which  I  did  busi 
ness,  although  we  had  been  extensive  purchasers  from  them 
since  we  commenced.  Their  dealings  with  us  were  always 
conducted  with  a  degree  of  formality  peculiar  to  the  senior 
partner,  and  I  dreaded  more  to  go  in  and  state  my  errand 
to  him  than  to  any  other  of  my  creditors ;  so  I  thought  I 
would  relieve  myself  by  going  there  first.  I  found  Mr. 
Longstreet  in  his  private  office.  He  received  me,  I  fancied, 
with  more  ceremony  than  usual.  As  I  proceeded  to  state 
wThat  I  wanted,  his  manner  relaxed.  He  drew  up  his  chair 
to  the  desk  where  I  sat,  and  went  patiently  over  my  state 
ments,  asked  some  pertinent  questions,  and  finally  adjusting 
his  spectacles  with  much  precision,  he  took  the  document 
respecting  the  composition,  and  quietly  affixed  the  name  of 
his  firm  thereto,  and  handed  it  back  to  me.  Then  he  said : 
"Mr.  Parkinson,  our  house  are  satisfied  with  the  manner 
you  have  done  business,  and  I  wish  you  success  in  getting 
through  ;  if  we  can  render  you  any  assistance  let  me  know." 
I  left  the  counting-room  of  Longstreet  and  Company  with 
a  light  heart.  What  courage  those  quiet  words  of  old  Mr. 
Longstreet  had  given  me !  How  much  might  I  expect  from 
personal  friends  if  almost  an  entire  stranger  had  treated  me 
in  this  handsome  manner  ! 

I  went  next  to  Chapman  and  Terry.  I  had  not  much  in 
timacy  with  them  either.  Here  both  partners  were  in; 
both  expressed  great  surprise.  Did  not  understand  how  it 
could  be ;  thought  I  had  a  quarter  of  a  million  to  fall  back 
on — every  body  said  so;  couldn't  afford  the  loss;  every  man 


OF     WALL-STREET.  53 

must  look  out  for  himself;  did  not  believe  much  in  signing 
off;  thought  I  ought  to  get  the  banks  on  first,  and  so  forth. 
I  was  despairing  of  making  any  impression  on  such  people, 
for  they  declared  they  had  not  time  to  look  over  my  state 
ment,  so  I  said :    "  Well,  gentlemen,  I  will  call  again  when 
you  are  more  at  leisure."     Oh!  as  to  that,  they  were  as 
much  at  leisure  as  they  were  likely  to  be  these  times ;  better 
make  a  finish  of  the  matter,  and  have  no  more  bother  about 
it ;  and  thereupon   Terry  took  the   paper  out  of  my  hand, 
ran  his  eye  hastily  over  it,  nodded  "  all  right"  to  Chapman, 
and  without  more  ado  scrawled   rapidly  the  name  of  the 
house,  and  handing  it  back,  said :  "  Good  luck  to  you,  Mr. 
Parkinson ;  get  through  as  quick  as  you  can,  the  longer  you 
delay  the  more  trouble  there  will  be.     Besides,  we  want 
you  for  a  customer.     Good  day."     As  I  stepped  into  the 
street  my  heart  began  to  warm  toward  all  the  world.     This 
effect  was  produced  by  the  success  of  my  two  interviews. 
I  could  have  hugged  in  my  arms  that  formal  old  gentleman, 
and  could  have  jointly  and  severally  embraced  the  firm  of 
Chapman  and  Terry — rough,  grumbling,  petulant,  generous- 
hearted  fellows  that  they  were.     Fortified  with  these  two 
important  signatures,  I  called  on  several  other  merchants 
with  whom  I  had  more  or  less  difficulty,  some  taking  a  day 
to  decide,  some  wishing  to  see  other  creditors,  some  signing 
off  at  once.     There  was  a  Mr.  Oilnut,  whose  office  was  in 
Wall-street,  to  whom  I  paid  an  early  visit.     He  held  our 
note  for  eleven  hundred  and  fifty  dollars.     He  was  a  rich 
man  who  invested  most  of  his  ready  means  in  commercial 
paper,  and  had  purchased  this  note  only  a  few  days  before, 
and  after  our  credit  began  to  be  weakened,  at  the  rate  of 


54  UNDER  CURRENTS 

three  per  cent,  a  month,  trusting  to  information  which  he 
thought  sure  as  to  our  unquestionable  ability  to  go  through. 

Mr.  Oilnut  received  me  with  an  extreme  of  courtesy — 
deeply  regretted  our  temporary  embarrassment.  As  to  his 
little  affair,  he  presumed  we  did  not  intend  to  include  it  in 
the  list  to  be  compounded  with.  I  must  recollect  he  had 
paid  cash  for  it — hard  cash. 

"  True,  Mr.  Oilnut,'1  I  replied,  "  but  in  so  doing  you  made 
a  much  larger  profit  than  the  merchants  who  are  my  cred 
itors,  and  at  the  rate  you  can  buy  notes  now,  you  will  lose 
but  little  by  taking  seventy-five  cents  on  the  dollar." 

"  Tut,  tut,"  said  Mr.  Oilnut,  blandly,  "  you  are  too  hard  on 
us.  Cash  in  hand,  Mr.  Parkinson,  cash  in  hand  people  must 
be  expected  to  give  value  received  for.  You  can't  pay  an  in 
voice  of  merchandise  over  the  counter,  nor  a  bond  and  mort 
gage,  and  not  always  good  stocks,  but  cash  in  hand — that  we 
must  have  quick  returns  for,  and  re-a-sou-a-ble  profits." 

"And  do  I  understand  you  refuse  to  sign  off?" 

"  Oh !  no,  my  dear  sir,  not  absolutely  refuse,  certainly 
not.  I  was  merely  explaining  to  you  the  difference  between 
my  position  and  that  of  your  other  creditors,  that's  all.  Be 
sides,  the  note  I  hold  does  not  mature  for  two  months,  plenty 
of  time  to  arrange  for  it.  You  wont  find  me  an  unreason 
able  man,  GOD  forbid.  You  had  better  get  all  the  business 
debts  on  first,  and  then  come  to  me,  and " 

"  But  this  is  a  business  debt,  Mr.  Oilnut." 

"  Well,  well,  we  will  not  quarrel  about  terms ;  call  again, 
call  again,  Mr.  Parkinson.  You  will  find  me  disposed  to 
accommodate  you." 

Thrice  I  repeated  my  visit  to  this  man,  receiving  each 


OF      WALL-STREET.  55 

time  more  encouraging  assurances,  with  a  suggestion  that  I 
should  get  such  and  such  a  name  on  before  applying  for  his 
signature.  On  my  last  interview,  having  procured  the  name 
which  he  had  the  previous  day  requested  should  be  obtained 
before  he  was  ready  himself  to  sign,  I  found  Mr.  Oilnut 
more  bland,  more  sympathizing,  more  uncertain  than  ever. 
On  due  consideration,  he  did  not  think  he  should  be  called 
on  just  then.  His  opinion  on  the  subject  had  undergone 
some  modification — a  slight  modification.  He  pledged  me 
his  word  as  a  gentleman  and  a  man  of  honor — and  he  felt 
that  I  would  appreciate  that — that  he  would  not  cause  me 
the  slightest  inconvenience,  not  the  slightest.  He  begged 
me  to  go  on  precisely  as  if  this  note  was  not  in  existence ; 
when  it  was  perfectly  convenient  I  would  arrange  it,  he 
knew  I  would. 

By  this  time  I  saw  plainly  it  was  Mr.  Oilnut's  intention 
to  be  paid  in  full,  and  on  the  day  his  note  fell  due.  The 
scoundrel  hoped  before  that,  I  should  be  once  more  in  active 
business  and  could  not  afford  a  protest. 

"  Very  well,  Mr.  Oilnut,"  I  said  (for  I  was  now  thor 
oughly  indignant),  "I  see  your  drift,  and  had  you  told  me 
plainly  the  day  I  first  called  on  you,  that  you  declined  to 
sign  oif,  I  would  not  complain ;  as  it  is,  permit  me  to  say 
to  you  that  I  despise  your  conduct ;  and  since  you  have  ap 
pealed  to  me  as  '  a  gentleman  and  a  man  of  honor,'  I  will 
add  that  in  my  opinion  you  are  neither." 

"  My  friend,"  returned  Oilnut,  quietly  placing  himself  be 
tween  me  and  the  door  as  I  was  going  out,  "  my  friend,  do 
you  volunteer  that  as  a  piece  of  information  ? — if  you  do,  it 
is  stale  :  I  have  heard  it  before.  Good  mornincr !" 


56  UNDER  CUKEENTS 

"  And  has  such  a  wretch  any  soul  ?"  I  asked  myself  as  I 
walked  along  the  street  after  leaving  Oilnut's  office.  I  had 
taken  my  first  lesson  in  misanthropy  :  more  was  to  follow. 
Could  this  be  the  Oilnut  who  had  such  a  nice  daughter ; 
who  was  a  leading  patron  of  the  opera ;  who  affected  the 
fine  arts  ;  who  had  dined  at  my  house  ;  attended  my  wife's 
parties  ;  interchanged  visits  with  us  generally  ? 

As  I  did  not  wish  to  follow  out  such  a  painful  train  of 
thought,  I  went  to  the  store  of  Mr.  Goulding,  a  personal 
friend  of  mine,  who  at  the  same  time  was  a  creditor  to  a 
large  extent.  His  family  and  mine  were  very  intimate  ;  we 
attended  the  same  church,  in  which  he  was  a  leading  elder ; 
our  business  relations  had  been  always  most  agreeable,  and 
particularly  advantageous  to  his  house.  Mr.  Goulding  had 
been  absent  in  Charleston  ever  since  our  suspension,  and  I 
looked  anxiously  for  his. return,  because  I  considered  him  a 
judicious  adviser,  and  one  warmly  interested  as  a  true  friend 
in  my  welfare.  I  knew  he  had  come  back  the  day  before  ; 
so  I  hastened,  after  leaving  Oilnut's,  to  call  on  him.  He 
was  quite  alone  in  his  private  room.  I  was  surprised  to  dis 
cover  a  certain  embarrassment  exhibited  on  my  entering. 
He  begged  to  be  excused  for  a  moment ;  was  absent  a  quar 
ter  of  an  hour  at  least,  and  asked  pardon  with  great  formal 
ity  on  entering.  All  traces  of  the  friend  had  vanished  from 
his  demeanor.  Heavens,  what  a  change  ! 

"  Very  sad  news,  Mr.  Parkinson,"  said  Goulding  solemnly, 
as  if  he  were  condoling  with  me  on  the  loss  of  my  wife 
or  child ;  "  very  sad.  I  suppose  you  will  be  able  to  pay 
all  ?  But  it  will  break  you  up :  yes,  I  foresee  it,  it  will 
break  you  up." 


OF      WALL-STREET.  57 

I  was  struck  dumb,  actually  dumb.  For  a  minute  not  a 
word  was  said.  Then  Mr.  Goulding  continued : 

"  Mr.  Parkinson,  we  should  consider  all  these  misfortunes 
as  a  direct  chastening  from  the  LORD.  Doubtless  your 
worldly  pride  has  been  too  great ;  you  have  had  too  much 
confidence  in  your  own  strength.  The  unsanctified  heart, 
Mr.  Parkinson,  must  be  brought  by  affliction  to  a  due  sense 
of  dependence.  I  have  long  felt  that  you  have  too  much 
neglected  the  things  which  belong  to  your  peace." 

During  this  harangue  I  was  slowly  recovering  my  senses. 
I  felt  like  one  bewildered,  but  I  strove  to  retain  my  courage. 
I  said  to  myself,  I  am  nearly  through  ;  both  baaks  have  de 
cided  officially  to  accept  my  proposition.  Oilnut  to  be  sure 
must  be  paid  in  full :  so  my  creditors  themselves  say.  Two 
or  three  others  take  time  to  consider — courage !  So,  with 
a  long-drawn  breath  and  a  settling  myself  out  of  my  old 
position  as  this  man's  friend  and  a  settling  myself  into  the 
position  of  regarding  him  as  somebody  hard  to  deal  with,  I 
responded:  "Mr.  Goulding,  I  have  no  doubt  you  are  right 
as  to  my  short-comings,  but  you  do  not  understand  the  ex 
act  position  of  my  affairs  at  present.  In  your  absence  I 
have  made  great  progress  toward  procuring  an  extension, 
on  the  basis  of  paying  seventy-five  cents  on  a  dollar.  Near 
ly  all  have  signed,  and  I  come  now  for  the  signature  of  your 
firm." 

"  My  dear  sir,"  said  Goulding,  "  we  cannot  afford  to  make 
such  a  loss.  You  owe  us  over  four  thousand  dollars.  In 
justice  to  my  wife  and  children,  I  must  decline." 

"But  our  long  and  intimate  friendship,"  I  exclaimed; 
"  surely  for  a  thousand  dollars  you  would  not  sacrifice  me!" 
3* 


58  UNDERCURRENTS 

"  A  pretty  idea,  to  expect  to  pay  your  debts  one  part  cash 
one  part  friendship!  ~No  friendship  in  trade !  that  is  my 
motto,  Mr.  Parkinson,"  was  the  coarse  reply.  "  But,  Park 
inson,  I  tell  you  what  it  is,  if  you  will  agree  privately  to 
pay  me  in  full,  privately  you  know,  and  secure  the  whole  by 
a  mortgage  on  your  wife's  house,  why,  there  now,  I  will  for 
once  waive  a  business  rule  and  let  friendship  sway  me  from 
my  duty ;  yes,  I  will  for  old  acquaintance  sake  —  I  de 
clare  I  will.  Besides,  I  will  sign  the  paper,  and  I  will  go  to 
Screwtight  and  Company,  and  to  Gripeall,  and  put  you 
through  there.  You  see  I  know  where  the  shoe  pinches. 
By  George,  you  will  be  as  good  as  new  in  a  week,  and  we 
will  be  friends  again,  Parkinson,  and  visiting  together,  and 
all  that :  and  you  will  go  on  just  as  ever.  Will  put  you 
right  too  with  the  '  agency,'  only,  you  know,  shan't  expect 
to  sell  you  at  first :  you  understand,  not  till  you  get  all " 
straight  again." 

Reader !  if  you  are,  or  have  been  in  business,  have  stop 
ped  payment,  have  asked  an  extension,  or  have  sought  to 
eifect  a  compromise,  you  will  appreciate  my  situation  and 
will  follow  me  in  this  narrative  with  a  degree  of  interest ; 
and  so  will  you,  lady,  who  are  the  wife,  mother  or  sister  of 
some  such  one.  You,  too,  young  man,  who  are  clerk  for  a 
merchant  or  banker  or  broker,  or  other  business  establish 
ment,  may  and  should  find  a  useful  lesson  in  what  I  indite. 
It  is  literally  what  happened  to  me.  Read  it  as  a  true  expe 
rience.  Tell  me,  each  of  you,  what  was  my  duty  under  the 
tempting  offer  of  Mr.  Goulding  ?  It  was  tempting.  By 
accepting  it,  I  secured  the  services  of  an  adroit  and  influen 
tial  merchant,  and  it  probably  would  insure  the  success  of  my 


• 
O  F      W  A  L  L -  S  T  K  E  E  T.  59 

plans.  It  was  only  paying  him  a  thousand  dollars  more,  se 
cured  to  be  sure,  beyond  peradventure — for  my  wife's  house 
could  not  fail  to  bring  four  thousand  dollars  above  the  mort 
gage.  Do  you  wonder  I  hesitated  ?  I  did  hesitate  ;  but  the 
image  of  HOXEST  Mr.  Longstreet  rose  before  me ;  Chapman 
and  Terry,  too,  I  saw  with  their  bluff  but  genuine  sympathy ; 
and  other  creditors  who  trusted  me,  all  of  whom  had  signed 
on  condition  that  the  rest  should  join  on  the  same  terms. 
Perhaps  I  made  a  mistake ;  but  in  the  hour  of  my  greatest 
need  and  misery,  I  never  regretted  it.  I  REFUSED,  peremp 
torily  refused  Goulding's  offer— peremptorily  but  calmly, 
nay,  mildly.  I  had  still  hopes  to  bring  him  to  my  views.  I 
explained  to  him  how  I  could  not  honorably  accede  to  his 
request ;  that  I  believed  I  should  pay  all  in  full,  and  that  at 
an  early  day,  and  so  forth. 

It  was  of  no  use.  He  was  like  adamant,  and  I  left  him ; 
as  it  was  late  in  the  afternoon,  I  went  directly  home.  I  had 
nearly  finished  my  dinner  when  there  was  a  ring  at  the  door, 
and  a  servant  announced  that  a  man  wanted  to  see  me. 
What  was  his  name  ?  The  servant  did  not  know  ;  the  man 
refused  to  give  it.  I  felt  nervous  ;  so,  directing  him  to  ask 
the  person  into  the  library,  I  hastily  finished  and  went  in  to 
see  him.  I  found,  seated  in  an  audacious,  self-possessed  pos 
ture,  a  large,  coarse-featured,  self-sufficient,  overbearing  look 
ing  fellow,  perhaps  thirty  years  old,  with  heavy  black  hair 
and  whiskers,  and  insolent  swagger  and  domineering  air. 

"This  is  Charles  E.  Parkinson,  I  presume,"  he  said  in  a 
coarse,  loud  tone. 

"  It  is,"  was  my  reply. 

"  And  I  am  John  Bulldog,  attorney-at-law !" 


60  UNDERCURRENTS 


CHAPTER  VI. 

JOHN  BULLDOG,  ATTORNEY-AT-LAW. 

HE  rose  as  he  spoke,  and  confronted  me  ! 

I  stood  quietly  waiting  for  him  to  speak. 

"  Is  this,"  said  he,  "  your  signature  ?"  producing  a  note 
which  he  held  up  for  my  inspection.  I  took  it  in  my  hands. 
It  was  for  ten  hundred  and  sixty-five  dollars  and  thirty  cents, 
payable  to  my  own  order.  I  recognized  it  at  once  as  one  of 
the  notes  given  to  Goulding.  The  name  on  the  back  had  been 
carefully  erased,  but  I  was  certain  it  was  one  held  by  his 
house,  from  their  habit  (which  has  since  become  almost  uni 
versal  with  merchants)  of  having  all  notes  drawn  to  the 
order  of  the  makers. 

"  Yes ;  this  is  my  signature,"  and  I  handed  the  note  back 
to  Mr.  Bulldog. 

"  Are  you  prepared  to  pay  the  note  ?" 

"No." 

Whereupon  the  fellow  drew  a  paper  from  his  pocket, 
which  he  reached  toward  me.  I  took  it.  It  was  a  "  dec 
laration,"  entitled  on  the  back : 

"NEW  YORK  COMMON  PLEAS. 

JOHN  BULLDOG 

vs. 

CHARLES  E.  PARKINSON  and 
EDWIN  A.  ROLLINS." 


OF      W  ALL-STKEET.  61 

I  looked  at  it  for  a  moment.  "  I  perceive,"  said  I,  "  this 
suit  is  on  a  note  we  gave  to  the  house  of  Goulding  and 
Company." 

"All  right,"  said  the  attorney.  "Now  you  will  under 
stand,  Mr.  Parkinson,  it  belongs  to  me,  and  it's  I  who  have 
sued  it.  Motives  of  delicacy;  Goulding  your  old  friend, 
and  so  forth  ;  you  comprehend,"  continued  Bulldog  with  a 
leer.  "  Having  brought  my  action  on  this  note,  I  demand 
of  you  that  you  apply  the  furniture  in  this  house,  not  exempt 
by  law  from  execution,  to  the  payment  of  rny  claim.  I  de 
mand  further,  if  the  furniture  be  insufficient,  that  you  apply 
the  sugars  and  teas,  and  other  merchandise  in  your  store  in 
Front-street,  to  the  payment  in  full,  including  costs,  charges 
and  expenses.  Do  you  consent  or  refuse  ?  I  want  an 
answer." 

I  did  not  know  what  to  make  of  this  extraordinary  propo 
sition.  Instinctively  I  felt  that  there  was  something  breeding 
below  the  surface. 

"Well!"  said  Bulldog. 

"  I  will  consult  my  counsel  and  give  you  an  answer  to 
morrow,"  was  my  reply. 

"That  wont  do,"  said  the  attorney,  "I  have  made  a 
demand  and  I  want  to  know  what  you  have  to  say  to  it." 

"  You  have  heard  all  I  have  to  say  this  evening.  I  repeat, 
to-morrow  I  shall  consult  rny  counsel,  and  you  will  then  hear 
from  me." 

"  Look  here,  Parkinson,"  said  the  creature,  coming  nearer 
to  me,  "  are  you  green  ?  Don't  you  know  me  ?" 

"  I  do  not." 

"  Don't   know  John  Bulldog !      By  -      -  you've  got  to 


62  UNDER  CURRENTS 

know  him,  that's  all.  You  had  better  believe  that.  Come 
now,  I  can't  tell  why;  but  damn  it,  I  would  rather  you 
should  listen  to  reason.  I  know  who  your  counsel  is.  I 
know  Norwood.  He's  a  damned  fool;  a  good  lawyer 
enough  with  no  common  sense,  and  that  makes  a  damned 
fool  any  time.  Look  here,  will  you  ?  Just  listen  to  what  I 
have  to  say.  I  tell  you  you've  got  to  pay  me  the  four  thou 
sand  and  odd  dollars  you  owe  me,  me,  you  understand.  You 
an't  dealing  now  with  Goulding.  I  own  those  notes.  Now, 
.Parkinson,  this  sort  of  business  is  new  to  you:  I  see  it  is, 
so  I  think  it  worth  my  while  to  explain.  I  am  an  attorney- 
at-LAW,  and  mind  you  I  go  by  the  law.  I  don't  know  why, 

but  I  feel  somehow  inclined  toward  you,  and  by I  will 

save  you  if  you  will  give  me  a  chance.  Only  you  must  pay 
these  notes.  By  this  time  you  have  found  out  that  Goulding 
is  a  damned  sneaking  old  hypocrite.  Now,  fix  up  this  busk 
ness,  engage  me  to  get  you  through,  and  I  will  have  you  on 
your  legs  in  less  than  a  week.  I  tell  you  that  you  had  better 
not  hesitate.  Screwtight  and  Company  and  Gripeall,  are 
both  my  clients ;  you  know  how  much  you  owe  them ;  you 
know  whether  they  have  signed  off  or  not.  Retain  me  and 
you  are  all  right  there.  For  one  thousand  dollars  counsel- 
fee,  I  will  put  you  all  hunk.  Damned  if  I  don't.  Would 
like  to  see  any  of  these  chaps  oppose  you  then.  But  if  you 
don't  do  it,  Parkinson,  I,  who  know,  tell  you  that  you  are  a 

gone  case.     By it's  so." 

At  that  moment  I  felt  something  pulling  at  the  skirt  of 
my  coat.  It  was  my  youngest  child,  a  little  girl  four  years 
old.  She  was  looking  at  Bulldog  with  wide-open  surprised 
eyes.  Just  then  his  glance  fell  upon  her.  Strange  to  say, 


O  F      W  A  L  L-  S  T  K  E  E  T.  63 

the  wretch  still  had  twinges  of  conscience.  I  heard  after 
ward  he  had  a  wife  and  two  children.  He  started  as  if 
seized  by  a  sudden  and  acute  pain ;  he  turned  quickly  away, 
then  recovering,  he  laid  hold  of  my  arm,  and  said  with 

another  horrible  oath :  "  By ,  Parkinson,  come  this  way. 

You  are  in  the  hands  of  a  man  who  never  gives  out.  Once 
more  I  tell  you  pay  Goulding's  debt ;  you  must  do  it.  I 
own  it,  and  that's  enough.  I  believe  I  am  getting  to  be  a 
damned  fool :  damn  that  little  child,  send  her  out  of  the 
room."  For  little  Anna  had  followed,  and  was  again  pulling 
at  my  coat.  "  Parkinson,  let  me  take  hold  of  you,  and  put 
you  through.  Now  then  !  'tis  the  last  call.  What  do  you 
say  ?" 

Up  to  this  moment  I  had  not  spoken  a  word,  since  reply 
ing  to  his  formal  demand.  Now  I  looked  him  steadily  in 
the  face.  I  knew  it  was  all  over  with  me.  But  my  blood 
was  up.  I  opened  the  door.  "  There,"  I  said,  pointing  to 

it,  "  quick  !  or ."     There  was  a  desperation  in  my  eye 

before  which  a  coward  would  be  sure  to  quail.  Bulldog 
walked  out  of  the  house  without  a  word.  Yet  I  knew  what 
would  be  the  consequence  :  knew  and  accepted  it.  So  tak 
ing  my  little  one  by  the  hand,  I  returned  to  the  parlor. 

"Any  thing  wrong?"  was  the  first  question. 

"Oh  no." 

Then  we  had  a  pleasant  evening.  The  children  were  very 
happy. 


64  UNDERCURRENTS 


CHAPTER    VII. 

A    DIGRESSION. 

AND  blessed  be  GOD  for  all  that  children  enjoy !  Did 
you  ever  think  of  it,  how  independent  they  are  of  circum 
stances  ?  How  the  children  of  the  poor  are  as  happy  with 
a  penny  toy,  with  a  bit  of  broken  china,  a  rag  baby,  or  their 
mud-pies,  as  the  offspring  of  the  rich  with  their  endless 
variety  of  playthings,  selected  with  so  much  care  from  the 
most  expensive  shops  ?  Do  you  know  how  ready  children 
are  to  find  -enjoyment  in  any  condition,  with  a  contentment 
and  a  cheerfulness  which  grown-up  people  may  indeed  envy  ? 
It  is  not  till  they  become  acquainted  with  the  conventionali 
ties  of  the  world,  and  find  they  lack  what  is  most  important 
in  the  world's  eyes,  that  discontent  creeps  into  the  heart, 
and  dissatisfaction  takes  the  place  of  this  blessed  state.  Thus 
it  is  not  the  thing  itself,  but  our  consideration  of  it,  which 
has  on  us  so  extraordinary  an  influence. 

Strange  to  say,  looking  back  to  what  was  most  oppressive, 
most  agonizing,  in  our  change  of  position  from  wealth  to 
poverty,  I  recall  distinctly  the  fact  that  it  was  the  thought 
of  my  children  which  most  afflicted  me.  There  was  that  in 
their  young  natures  which  in  this  connection  touched  me 
to  the  quick.  It  displayed  such  entire  reliance  upon  their 
father.  He  was  stronger,  lie  was  better  than  anybody  else. 
lie  could  not  suffer  defeat  nor  discomfiture.  Never.  Where 


OP      WALL-STREET.  65 

he  was,  there  was  safety.  Even  now  I  recollect  the  confi 
dent  grasp  with  which  little  Anna  held  hold  of  me  as  she 
gazed  with  instinctive  apprehension  in  the  eyes  of  Bulldog. 
Perhaps — who  knows  ? — it  was  her  presence  which  moved 
me  to  act  toward  the  villain  as  became  a  man,  which  pre 
vented  any  compromise  with  successful  knavery. 

I  repeat,  it  was  the  thought  of  my  children  which  most 
touched  my  heart  when  I  reflected  upon  what  was  about  to 
happen.  Their  innocent  and  guileless  faith  ;  the  shock  which 
it  would  receive ;  the  impossibility  of  their  understanding 
all  about  it ;  was  it  unnatural ;  have  you  yourself  never 
experienced  any  thing  like  it  ?  Whether  you  have  or  not, 
I  declare  these  feelings  at  times  oppressed  me  almost  to 
madness.  Yet  how  unconscious  were  they  of  causing  me 
such  pain. 

But  I  digress,  and  if  you  cannot  sympathize  with,  will 
you  not  at  least  excuse  my  devoting  a  few  paragraphs  to 
those  little  beings,  of  whom  our  SAVIOUR  said :  "  Of  such 
is  the  kingdom  of  heaven." 


66  U  N  D  E  It  C  U  K  E  E  N  T  S 


CHAPTER    VIII. 

THE     ASSIGNMENT. 

I  REMARKED  that  after  turning  Bulldog  out  of  doors  we 
passed  a  pleasant  evening.  It  was  so.  I  understood  per 
fectly  that  it  was  in  the  power  of  Goulding  to  prevent  ray 
carrying  through  the  proposed  compromise,  and  I  saw  he 
was  determined  to  do  so  unless  I  paid  him  in  full.  I  had 
resolved  not  to  do  this.  That  settled  in  a  manner  to  preserve 
to  me  my  self-respect — and  self-respect  is  a  tower  of  strength 
— I  was  perfectly  calm.  Yet  when  I  stopped  to  reflect  on 
Goulding's  course,  I  confess  I  was  astounded.  It  really  was 
not  for  his  interest  to  sacrifice  me.  Evidently,  however,  he 
acted  on  the  principle  of  making  sure  of  every  dollar.  His 
doctrine  was,  "  A  bird  in  the  hand,"  etc. ;  "  Never  risk  what 
is  certain  for  what  is  uncertain."  He  was  confident  of  being 
able  to  compel  payment  or  security  for  the  four  or  five  thou 
sand  dollars  we  owed  him.  If  he  gave  up  twenty-five  cents 
on  the  dollar,  besides  granting  time  for  the  balance,  he  might 
lose  even  that  balance.  This  was  the  narrow  reasoning  of  a 
sordid,  narrow-minded  man.  Yet  this  course  had  carried 
him  successfully  through  many  disastrous  seasons,  and  made 
him  rich.  In  every  situation  and  by  all  classes  Goulding 
was  considered  a  safe  man.  Not  content  with  standing  high 
in  financial  circles,  Goulding  took  stock  in  enterprises  which 
he  believed  would  entitle  him  to  admission  into  the  kingdom 


OF      W  A  L  L-S  T  R  E  E  T.  67 

of  heaven.  He  subscribed  largely  to  charities.  He  was  an 
elder  in  the  church ;  and  generally  present  at  the  Thursday 
evening  prayer-meeting.  For  several  years  he  had  been  the 
active  superintendent  of  the  Sunday-school.  The  clergyman 
sought  his  advice ;  and  in  any  matter  under  discussion  his 
counsel  was  apt  to  prevail.  His  family  assumed  a  good  deal 
of  fashionable  display.  His  carriage  was  an  expensive  one, 
his  horses  thorough-bred,  his  coachman  in  livery.  He  used 
to  say  how  much  his  heart  was  foreign  to  such  things,  but 
the  women  were  to  be  considered,  and  if  it  gave  his  wife 
pleasure,  why,  after  all,  it  was  harmless  enough.  This  was 
the  man  who  could  employ  such  a  creature  as  Bulldog  to 
•harass  and  distress  me. 

And  this  Goulding,  who  by  the  way  is  a  type  of  a  pretty 
large  class,  was  he  really  unconscious  what  sort  of  person 
lie  was  ?  Did  he  honestly  believe  he  was  travelling  the  road 
to  eternal  life,  that  he  really  had  safe  assurance  for  passage 
into  the  next  world  ?  I  am  inclined  to  think  he  did.  That 
is,  the  part  of  sanctimonious  hypocrite  had  been  so  long 
played  that  it  had  become  a  second  nature.  He  had  prob 
ably  learned  to  thoroughly  deceive  himself.  So  that,  should 
he  read  this  history,  and  it  is  probable  he  may  read  it,  he 
will  be  very  apt  to  exclaim :  "  Why,  what  had  Parkinson  to 
complain  of  ?  It  was  a  fair  business  transaction.  It  wasn't 
for  me  to  pay  his  debts.  Didn't  he  owe  the  money?  Busi 
ness  is  business." 

What  misery,  what  trouble,  what  distress,  what  anguish 
one  human  being  will  cause  another !  Is  it  true  that  the 
goddess  Nemesis  never  tires,  never  intermits  her  unerring 


68  UNDERCUR  BENTS 

pursuit,  surely  reaches  her  object,  and  always  at  the  ap 
pointed  hour?  According  to  my  observation  and  experi 
ence,  those  merchants  who  are  most  severe  in  driving  debtors 
to  the  wall,  most  extortionate  in  their  demands,  most  un 
sparing  in  their  prosecutions,  generally  go  down  themselves 
in  the  long  run.  But  there  are  striking  exceptions  to  this 
stern  rule  of  compensation.  Goulding  has  not  failed.  He 
has  retired  from  business  with  a  large  fortune,  and  is  em 
ploying  his  capital  so  that  it  brings  in  handsome  and  safe 
returns.  An  odor  of  sanctity  surrounds  him  like  an  atmos 
phere.  I  see  his  name  often  on  public  subscription-lists. 
His  family  have  attained  a  high  social  position ;  all  things 
flow  smoothly  with  the  man  who  employed  Bulldog  to  visit 
me  that  evening.  To  whom  is  chargeable  the  breaking  up 
of  my  business,  the  loss  of  the  little  which  might  have  re 
mained  to  my  wife,  the  misery  and  destitution  of  my  family, 
and  my  own  personal  torments.  All  things  flow  smoothly 
with  him ! 

When,  O  Nemesis !  is  the  appointed  hour  ? 

I  lost  no  time  the  next  morning  in  calling  on  my  counsel, 
Mr.  Norwood,  of  the  law  firm  of  Norwood  and  Case.  Not 
withstanding  Bulldog's  sneer,  this  gentleman  held  an  emi 
nent  position  at  the  bar,  and  commanded  the  respect  and 
esteem  of  all.  Mr.  Case,  who  was  associated  with  him,  was 
a  shrewd,  quick-witted,  energetic  young  attorney,  of  honor 
able  instincts,  and  a  high  sense  of  what  became  his  profes 
sion.  With  Norwood  I  had  been  on  terms  of  great  intimacy 
for  more  than  twenty  years.  Minutely  I  stated  the  whole 
affair  with  Bulldog  (I  had  previously  conferred  with  Mr 


OF      WALL-STREET.  69 

Norwood  about  my  matters,  and  he  knew  the  progress  I 
was  making  in  my  efforts  for  a  compromise).  When  I  had 
concluded,  there  was  a  profound  silence  for  a  few  minutes. 
Mr.  Norwood  appeared  to  be  in  a  brown  study.  Presently 
he  said  :  "  The  fellow  seemed  to  lay  stress  on  his  demand, 
did  he  ?" 

"  Yes." 

"  And  he  specified  certain  articles  he  desired  you  to  apply 
to  the  payment  of  the  debt  ?" 

"  Yes." 

"  My  friend,  I  am  very  sorry  you  have  fallen  into  the 
hands  of  this  scoundrel.  Members  of  the  bar  are  undecided 
what  course  to  take  with  him.  As  long  as  he  infringes  no 
law  and  no  rule  of  court,  what  can  we  do  ?  I  know  all 
about  him.  He  undertakes  to  collect  doubtful  debts  by 
bullying  his  victim.  There  is  no  species  of  petty  persecu 
tion  which  does  not  embrace  a  violation  of  the  statute  which 
he  does  not  resort  to.  The  result  is,  that  RESPECTABLE  MER 
CHANTS  employ  him  to  manage  what  they  call  their  hard 
cases,  or  when  they  wish  to  appear  in  the  background. 
Now  I  know  that  Burnham  and  Prince  are  the  regular  coun 
sel  of  Goulding  and  Company,  persons  of  the  highest 
respectability,  yet  you  see  they  call  in  Bulldog  for  their 
dirty  work." 

"  But  what  can  he  do  ?"  I  asked. 

"  That  is  what  I  am  coming  to.  He  can  do  nothing  except 
give  you  a  great  deal  of  annoyance,  by  which  he  hopes  to 
wear  you  out  and  compel  payment  of  his  claim,  He  has 
doubtless  something  in  view  in  making  this  demand.  As 
to  the  legal  result,  give  yourself  no  uneasiness  about  that. 


70  UNDEECUEEENTS 

What  is  to  be  dreaded  is,  that  he  will  obstruct  you  in  getting 
through  with  your  compromise.  But  stay  a  minute."  With 
that  Mr.  Norwood  stepped  into  another  room  and  called 
Mr.  Case.  The  latter  entered,  bowed  to  me,  and  said  to  Mr. 
Norwood  :  "  I  have  but  a  few  moments,  as  I  must  be  at  the 
Hall  at  eleven  o'clock." 

"  You  are  better  acquainted  with  the  tricks  of  Bulldog 
than  I  am,  now  let  us  know*  what  he  is  driving  at  with  Mr. 
Parkinson ;"  and  he  briefly  described  my  interview. 

"  I  can  tell  you,"  said  Mr.  Case,  promptly.  "  Bulldog 
brings  all  his  suits  in  the  Court  of  Common  Pleas,  where  he 
has  managed  to  obtain  an  extraordinary  control  in  all  mat 
ters  of  mere  practice.  I  don't  mean  to  say  any  of  the  judges 
are  corrupt,  but  the  fact  is,  he  has  actually  got  the  upper 
hand  of  Calcroft  in  particular,  before  whom  he  manages  to 
bring  all  his  motions.  It  was  only  yesterday  I  endeavored 
to  get  a  *  snap-judgment'  opened  which  Bulldog  had  taken 
against  us  after  promising  one  of  our  clerks  verbally  to  give 
us  another  day  to  plead.  The  young  man  was  to  blame  in 
applying  for  further  time  to  him  instead  of  the  Court,  and, 
as  you  know,  no  verbal  stipulation  is  binding,  Bulldog  en 
tered  judgment,  and  laughed  in  my  face  the  next  morning, 
for  being  so  credulous.  '  Case,'  said  he, '  you  never  need  be 
afraid  of  me  so  long  as  you  keep  yourself  within  the  EULES. 
My  advice  is,  to  turn  that  clerk  out  of  your  office  and  get  a 
better  one  in  his  place — he's  green.'  If  it  had  not  been  in 
the  court-room  I  should  have  knocked  the  fellow  down,  I 
was  so  enraged.  Yesterday  I  made  the  motion  to  open  the 
judgment,  and  do  you  believe,  so  completely  is  Calcroft  un 
der  Bulldog's  influence  that  instead  of  vacating  the  judgment 


OP      WALL-STREET.  71 

and  indignantly  reprimanding  him,  as  was  once  done  in 
the  Superior  Court,  he  only  consented  to  let  me  in  to  defend 
on  payment  of  costs,  and  allowing  the  judgment  to  stand 
as  security !" 

"  But,  Mr.  Case,"  said  Norwood,  "  smiling  at  the  way  his 
junior  was  carried  off  by  his  interest  in  his  motion,  "  you 
forget  that  it  is  Mr.  Parkinson's  affair  we  have  now  to  con 
sider." 

"  Oh !  I  understand  about  that.  He  tried  it  on  with 
Lewis.  Very  annoying,  though.  Bulldog  contends  that 
after  he  has  commenced  such  a  suit,  and  made  such  a  de 
mand,  on  failure  to  comply  he  can  bring  the  case  within  the 
provisions  of  the  act  to  abolish  imprisonment  for  debt,  and 
TO  PUNISH  FRAUDULENT  DEBTORS.  Of  course  he  can't  do 
any  such  thing,  but  he  gives  one  a  world  of  trouble." 

Mr.  Norwood  took  down  the  second  volume  of  the  "  Re 
vised  Statutes,"  and  turned  to  the  one  hundred  and  seventh 
page.  "  There,"  said  Mr.  Case,  putting  his  finger  on  sec 
tion  four,  "  Bulldog  claims  that  a  refusal  to  apply  property 
to  the  payment  of  a  demand  against  which  the  defendant 
admits  there  is  no  defence,  is  prima-facie  evidence  that  the 
defendant,  in  the  language  of  the  act,  '  is  about  to  dispose 
of  liis  property  with  intent  to  defraud  his  creditors?  and  for 
which  a  WARRANT  OF  ARREST  ISSUES  !  What  is  worse,  I  am 
told  that  Calcroft  is  inclined  to  sustain  this  construction ;  at 
all  o vents,  he  has  issued  warrants  to  my  knowledge,  on  affi 
davits  prepared  by  Bulldog,  when  he  knew  just  what  the 
facts  were.  The  question  has  never  been  tried,  because  the 
parties  will  be  only  too  eager  to  settle  in  some  way,  and 
escape  from  the  custody  of  the  sherbT  before  it  becomes 


72  UNDERCURRENTS 

known  they  have  been  arrested.  For  my  part,  I  have  made 
up  my  mind  the  only  way  to  get  along  with  Bulldog  is  to 
fight  him  hard  and  strong,  and  if  necessary  to  administer 
personal  chastisement.  He  is  a  cowardly  bully,  and  it  is  a 
I  disgrace  to  the  merchants  of  the  city  that  such  a  creature 
finds  employment."  Mr.  Case  here  looked  at  his  watch  and 
made  a  hasty  exit.  Mr.  Norwood  smiled  as  the  former 
went  out,  and  said :  "  Case  is  still  smarting  under  that  snap- 
judgment,  but  really  it  is  quite  as  he  has  described  it.  Now 
to  your  affair.  Plainly,  I  think  he  will  be  ready  in  his  at 
tempt  to  arrest  you  early  in  the  week,  and  you  w.ere 
judicious  in  coming  directly  to  me.  One  thing  first — you 
decide  not  to  buy  him  off?" 

"  I  am  settled  on  that  point." 

"  You  are  aware  this  will  force  you  into  an  assignment  ?" 

"lam." 

"  Well,  then,  go  to  your  counting-room ;  prepare  sched 
ules  of  your  liabilities  and  assets  as  soon  as  possible.  If  any 
thing  special  occurs,  send  at  once  for  me.  I  shall  be  either 
here  or  at  my  house." 

I  took  leave  of  my  friendly  adviser  and  went  to  Front- 
street.  I  had  not  been  long  there  before  "  declarations" 
were  served  on  me  :  one  at  the  suit  of  Screwtight  and  Com 
pany,  one  by  Gripeall  on  notes  of  our  firm  already  protested. 
Rollins  had  been  already  served,  and  when  I  told  him  what 
we  had  to  expect  the  poor  fellow  was  greatly  depressed.  I 
endeavored  to  encourage  him.  I  said  this  was  nothing  but 
valuable  experience  to  him  who  was  just  beginning  his  busi 
ness  life  ;  he  must  think  of  it  as  such.  With  me  it  was 
another  affiiir.  At  my  age  recovery  was  difficult. 


OF     WALL-STREET.  73 

In  the  afternoon  I  conferred  with  some  of  my  largest 
creditors ;  they  all  sympathized  with  me,  and  some  offered 
to  call  on  Goulding  with  the  hope  to  influence  him  to  change 
his  course.  Among  these  was  Mr.  Longstreet.  The  inter 
view  was  a  protracted  one,  and  it  was  fruitless.  I  never 
learned  the  particulars ;  but  I  know  the  next  time  the  HON 
EST  man  met  the  HYPOCRITE  he  passed  him  without  sign  of 
recognition.  As  for  Gripeall  and  Screwtight,  they  were 
under  Goulding' s  influence  so  entirely  that  application  to 
either  would  be  useless. 

Before  I  went  home  that  night  we  had  made  our  assign 
ment.  Late  in  the  evening  it  was  finished  and  executed  at 
Mr.  Norwood's  office.  Thus  I  was  forced  to  dispossess  my 
self  of  a  large  estate.  For  I  was  not  willing  such  men  as 
Goulding,  Gripeall,  Screwtight  and  one  or  two  others,  should 
receive  their  entire  claim  by  prosecuting,  to  the  detriment 
of  more  honest  and  indulgent  creditors.  The  course  taken 
by  Bulldog  was  ingenious.  Through  his  influence  with 
Judge  Calcroft  he  would  be  able  to  procure  a  warrant  of 
arrest  for  me  on  the  ground  I  had  failed  to  comply  with  his 
demand.  It  is  true  such  a  course  would  not  ultimately  be 
sustained,  but  the  warrant  once  granted  we  would  be  forced 
to  give  bonds  that  we  would  not  "  assign  or  dispose  of  any 
property  with  intent,  or  with  a  view  to  give  a  preference  to 
any  creditor"  etc.  Could  this  warrant  be  served  before  the 
assignment  was  actually  executed,  Bulldog  felt  assured  he 
could  worry  us  into  payment.  Indeed,  we  would  never  be 
out  of  his  clutches  while  any  thing  remained  to  plunder. 

In  my  assignment,  after  providing  for  a  few  confidential 
matters,  I  divided  all  among  my  creditors  equally.     I  was 


74  UNDERCURRENTS 

greatly  tempted  to  leave  Goulding  out.  But  I  thought 
the  revenge  would  be  an  ignoble  one.  So  he  shared  with 
the  rest. 

Once  more  all  was  gone!  1837-1847.  Ten  years  out  of 
the  marrow  of  my  life  !  And  I  was  swept  back,  to  begin 
where  I  had  left  off  ten  years  before.  No ;  that  was  im 
possible.  I  could  never  begin  there  again.  Never  were 
those  years  to  come  back.  I  had  to  repeat  my  circum 
stances  with  ten  years'  less  vigor  and  vitality.  There  comes 
a  time,  often  before  we  actually  perceive  any  diminution  of 
health  or  strength,  when  we  experience  a  loss  of  confidence 
in  our  power  to  do  and  to  achieve,  to  endure  and  to  suffer; 
when  we  are  tempted  to  bow  the  head  and  say :  "  Enough  ! 
let  there  be  no  more  strife."  It  is  the  first  sign  of  decadence, 
a  mournful  sign  ;  this  drooping  of  confidence,  so  much  more 
appalling  than  any  physical  failure  of  the  frame. 

It  was  Saturday  evening  when  we  accomplished  this.  It 
was  with  a  sense  of  relief  that  I  thought  of  the  next  day  as 
one  of  rest.  It  was  many  years  since  the  Sabbath  had  seemed 
to  me  so  desirable.  Before  I  reached  my  door  I  was  en 
deavoring  to  accustom  myself  to  what  had  now  taken  place. 
The  execution  of  the  assignment  was  a  death-blow  to  any 
immediate  plan  for  getting  into  business.  While  I  was  en 
ergetically  employed  in  attempts  to  carry  through  a  com 
promise,  I  never  stopped  to  contemplate  such  a  result.  It 
had  come,  and  I  already  began  to  devise  some  method  to 
make  the  best  of  it. 

Step  by  step  we  become  accustomed  to  what  happens. 
Gradually  pushed  from  one  stand-point  to  another,  we  learn 
to  submit.  Wonderful  is  the  power  of  adaptation  in  man ; 


OF      WALL-STREET.  75 

to  climate  and  temperature,  to  every  kind  of  food  and  cloth 
ing,  to   every  variety  of  habit  and  condition  and  circum 
stance.     Give  him  sway,  and  he  is  a  very  lord  paramount ! 
tyrannizing  over  his  fellows,   attempting  things   unnatural 
and  preposterous,  wasteful  and  ridiculous.     Important  and 
self-sufficient,  he  shows  it  in  his  look,  his  walk,  his  gesture, 
his  surroundings.     Let  the  hand  be  put  forth  against  him, 
and  does  he  fall,  does  he  wither  into  insignificance  ?     No ; 
he  adapts  himself  to  his  new  state.     He  discovers  that  his 
former  condition  was  not  propitious  to  a  high  moral  and  in 
tellectual  life.     He  sees  things  in  a  new  light,  and  his  opin 
ions  alter  accordingly.     Misfortune   still  pursues  him.     In 
stead  of  crouching,  crushed  and  humiliated,  he  stands  up 
and  proclaims  aloud  that  it  is  only  in   adversity  the  true 
powers  are  developed.     Press  him  down  harder  and  closer 
until  he  is  in  positive  extremity ;  he  boldly  defies  the  god 
of  this  world,  points  triumphantly  to  the  next,  and  wel 
comes   what  shall  come  there ;  averring  that  only  as  a  so- 
journer  he  has  tarried  here  ;  never  claiming  a  residence,  he 
desires   none,  for   he  will  soon   leave  for  home.      Verily, 
strange  is  the  power  of  the  soul ! 


76  UNDERCURRENTS 


CHAPTER    IX. 

AN     INTERESTING     DISCUSSION. 

"  PAPA,"  said  Miss  Alice,  after  we  had  returned  from 
church  in  the  morning,  "  what  do  you  suppose  is  the  mat 
ter  with  Harriet  Goulding  ?  She  scarcely  spoke  to  me  as 
we  came  out.  I  was  rushing  up  to  catch  hold  of  her,  but 
she  looked  so  strange  that  I  hesitated,  and  she  passed  on 
before  I  recovered  myself.  What  can  it  mean  ?" 

"  I  presume  it  is  on  account  of  a  business  difficulty  I  have 
with  her  father." 

"  Is  that  it  ?"  exclaimed  Alice  with  spirit.  "  And  so  that's 
what  Harriet's  friendship  is  worth.  I  wish  I  had  known  it 
before,  we  would  have  seen  who  would  have  been  the  first 
to  put  on  airs.  I  hope  I  shall  meet  her  face  to  face  in  the 
street  to-morrow.  How  I  will  cut  her !" 

I  laughed. 

"  You  would  not  laugh,  papa,  if  you  knew  how  intimate 
we  have  been,  and  how  glad  she  was  to  see  me  when  we 
came  back  from  Newport.  Well,  because  you  owe  her 
father  she  treats  me  so,"  and  tears  of  vexation  stood  in  her 
eyes. 

"  My  dear  child,"  I  said,  "  you  must  accustom  yourself 
to  this.  It  will  not  be  Miss  Harriet  alone  who  will  fail  in 
cordiality.  It  is  very  probable  that  many  young  misses, 
whose  fathers  I  don't  owe,  may  exhibit  similar  caprice  in 


OF      WALL-STREET.  77 

their  friendship  ;  not  perhaps  so  abruptly  as  Harriet  has 
done,  but  in  a  more  polite  way,  and  with  a  gradual  diminu 
tion  of  civility." 

Alice  burst  into  tears. 

"  My  dear  daughter,  I  am  sorry  to  grieve  you ;  but  the 
time  must  soon  come  when  you  will  begin  to  experience  the 
effect  of  what  has  happened  to  me,  and  it  is  best  I  should 
talk  to  you  about  it.  With  Harriet  Goulding  it  is  simply 
the  exhibition  of  her  father's  feelings ;  with  others,  it  will 
be  the  natural  result  of  our  change  of  circumstances.  You 
cease  to  belong  to  your  set  when  you  cease  to  do  as  they 
do.  Should  we  move  to  Philadelphia,  we  should  not  expect 
to  receive  morning  visits  from  our  friends  here.  And  when 
we  move  away  from  our  customs  and  habits  and  houses,  it 
is  not  in  the  natural  course  of  things  that  we  shall  con 
tinue  to  receive  visits  from  those  who  remain.  They  do 
not  desert  us.  We  desert  them,  and  we  must  not  be  vexed 
if  they  do  not  run  after  us.  But,  my  dear  child,  there  is 
nothing  in  this  to  sadden  or  discourage  you.  We  will  be 
happy,  for  we  love  each  other ;  and  wherever  we  are,  we 
shall  be  sure  to  find  some  who  are  congenial  and  friendly. 
We  must  not  be  misanthropical,  nor  permit  ourselves  to  be 
soured  by  exhibitions  of  wickedness.  The  good  exceed 
the  bad  in  numbers  and  strength ;  let  us  thank  GOD  that 
they  do." 

I  was  interrupted  by  happy  sounds  from  the  next  room. 
They  proceeded  from  little  Charley  and  Anna,  who  were 
singing  together  one  of  their  Sunday-school  hymns  to  a 
charming  air,  partly  taken  from  music  which  would  hardly 
be  considered  sacred.  I  listened  with  a  new  pleasure,  quite 


78  IT  N  D  ER  C  UR  BENTS 

ready  to  agree  with  the  learned  divine  who  pressed  certain 
operatic  strains  into  the  church  service ;  for  "  Why,"  said 
he,  "  should  the  devil  monopolize  all  the  good  music  ?"  I 
listened.  These  were  the  words  as  they  fell  on  my  ear : 

"To  do  to  others  as  I  would 

That  they  should  do  to  me, 
Will  make  me  honest,  kind  andjgood, 
As  children  ought  to  be." 

I  had  never  been  what  is  called  religious.  I  went  regular 
ly  once  on  Sunday  to  church,  but  was  not  a  member.  I 
cannot  say  I  had  any  habit  of  prayer,  although  I  was  a  con 
scientious  believer  in  the  truths  of  our  sacred  religion.  I 
suppose  I  had  heard  my  children  sing  their  little  hymns 
hundreds  of  times,  yet  never  till  that  day  was  I  impressed 
by  them.  A  sweet  solemnity  took  possession  of  me  ;  and 
when  they  had  finished,  tears  were  in  my  eyes.  Alice  saw 
it.  She  hardly  understood  my  emotion  ;  but  rising,  she 
came,  and  putting  her  arms  around  my  neck,  she  kissed  me 
and  said :  "  Dear  papa,  do  not  fear  that  we  shall  be  unhappy 
whatever  shall  befall  us.  We  will  all  try  to  make  your 
cares  lighter,  and  no  one  can  rob  us  of  our  love." 

I  pressed  my  daughter  to  my  heart,  while  now  the  tears 
flowed  freely  down  my  face.  I  rose  and  walked  up  and 
down  the  room.  "  Miserable  hypocrite,"  I  said  to  myself, 
"  you  are  claiming  for  yourself  to-day  an  exalted  religious 
feeling ;  say  rather  it  is  a  morbid  sentimentality  arising  from 
disappointment  in  business.  Hallo  !  stop  that !  Be  a  man. 
Do  not  insult  your  MAKER  with  this  cast-off  performance. 
Wait  a  while  till  things  go  smooth  with  you ;  then,  if  you 
want  to  be  pious  and  good  and  all  that  sort  of  thing,  you 


OF      WALL-STREET.  79 

can  have  the  opportunity."  Shocked  by  this  sudden  revul 
sion,  sufficiently  depressed  by  recent  events,  the  idea  that 
feelings  which  I  regarded  as  sacred,  were  nothing  but  a 
phase  of  low  spirits,  threw  me  back  on  myself  again.  Alice 
was  still  in  the  room  regarding  me  with  painful  solicitude. 
There,  I  said,  in  the  society  of  your  family,  in  the  honest 
determination  to  bear  what  conies  with  courage  and  with 
fortitude,  in  the  sifting  the  chaff  out  of  yourself,  and  pre 
serving  what  wheat  remains  for  the  harvest ;  that  is  a  better 
work,  just  at  present,  than  indulging  in  a  sentimental  whine 
over  your  sins."* 

The  bell  rang.  Presently  the  servant  announced  Miss 
Stevenson.  She  was  a  frequent  visitor  at  our  house — a  su 
perb  piece  of  GOD'S  handiwork  in  flesh  and  blood.  She  was 
an  orphan  at  this  time;  twenty-two  years  old ;  in  possession 
of  about  ten  thousand  dollars  a  year  ;  with  exquisite  taste, 
and  both  amiable  and  accomplished.  The  world  had  for  her 
a  daily  succession  of  delights  and  joys.  There  she  stood, 
her  handsome  face  exhibiting  that  fine  polish  of  the  skin, 
that  delicate,  rich  surface  which  only  the  best  possible  keep 
ing  will  produce.  The  hat  was  faultless,  so  was  the  rich 
camel's-hair  shawl  which  she  laid  aside  after  my  wife  came 
in,  displaying  a  faultless  shape,  set  off  to  best  advantage  by 
her  dress,  which  exhibited  minute  without  any  painful  at 
tention  to  detail.  Every  possible  appliance  which  the  sug- 

*  We  think  Mr.  PARKINSON  unnecessarily  severe  with  himself.  That  we  neglect  to 
turn  to  GOD  for  support  until  other  sources  fail,  is  no  evidence  that  our  feelings  are 
not  sincere.  Although  it  seerns  ungracious  to  seek  our  MAKER  only  after  every  earthly 
hope  has  peri.-hed ;  still  this  is  just  what  HE  tells  us  we  may  do.  Doubtless,  with 
many  their  feelings  will  not  stand  the  test  of  returning  prosperity.  But  we  have 
always  felt  that,  whether  genuine  or  not,  they  forcibly  illustrate  man's  recognition  of  ft 
WER. — EDITOR  OF  MEMOIRS. 


80  UNDERCURRENTS 

gestions  of  a  refined,  luxurious  taste  could  furnish  was  sup 
plied.  All  told  of  wealth,  rich  comforts  and  ease  in  one's 
possessions.  As  I  looked  at  her,  I  was  recalled  to  the  world 
— the  bright  world,  with  no  burdening  cares,  no  anxious 
forecast  into  the  morrow.  What  a  seductive  type  of  it  was 
before  me. 

Miss  Stevenson  made  a  long  visit.  She  was  sincerely  at 
tached  to  my  wife.  She  did  not  appear  to  be  affected  in  her 
friendship  by  our  change  of  fortune.  I  handed  her  to  her  car 
riage,  a  beautiful  open  barouche,  with  well  groomed  horses, 
a  coachman  in  neat  livery,  with  a  pose  on  his  box  of  absolute 
self-satisfaction ;  all  in  all,  complete  in  every  appointment. 

Just  then  a  bare-footed  girl,  ten  or  twelve  years  old,  with 
ragged  dress,  torn  hat,  no  shawl,  no  cloak  or  other  protection 
from,  the  November  wind,  passed  by.  She  paused  with 
careless  hesitation  and  cast  her  eyes  on  the  fine  young  lady 
in  the  carriage.  She  was  not  a  beggar,  this  girl ;  but  she 
stopped,  as  I  have  said,  perhaps  in  some  degree  fascinated, 
or  perhaps  in  a  mood  of  bold  or  idle  curiosity.  I  do  not 
suppose  it  occurred  to  her  as  it  did  to  me,  to  ask  what  has 
made  this  fearful  disparity  between  two  young  people.  Is 
there  nothing  wrong  in  a  SYSTEM  where  such  disparity  exists  ? 
Or  is  it  only  error  in  our  hearts  which  makes  a  good  system 
work  badly?  Has  that  charming,  amiable  young  woman 
any  RIGHT  to  sit  in  that  carriage  with  half  the  world  suffer 
ing  around  her  ?  and  so  forth.  These  thoughts,  trite  and 
familiar  to  the  philanthropist,  had  rarely  been  entertained 
by  me,  and  now  were  evidently  called  up  by  the  immediate 
contemplation  of  my  own  misfortunes. 

When  the  young  lady  in  the  carriage  caught  sight  of  the 


OF      WALL-STREET.  81 

bare-footed  wretch  on  the  side-walk,  she  exclaimed  quickly : 
"  Do  speak  to  that  poor  child,  Mr.  Parkinson,  and  see  if'  she 
does  not  want  something." 

The  "poor  child"  evidently  understood  the  remark,  for 
she  turned  abruptly  and  proceeded  on  her  way. 

" Speak  to  her,  do"  continued  Miss  Stevenson. 

I  called  to  the  girl.  She  stopped  and  looked  at  me  with 
an  independent  air. 

"  This  lady  wishes  to  know  if  she  cannot  help  you,"  I  said. 

"  I  don't  want  any  help,"  was  the  abrupt  reply  as  she 
started  on. 

There  was  nothing  more  to  be  done,  and  Miss  Stevenson 
directed  the  coachman  to  drive  on. 

In  the  evening  my  wife  and  I  sat  together,  and  endeavored 
to  take  a  careful  survey  of  our  situation.  It  was  gloomy 
enough.  The  semi-annual  interest  on  the  mortgage  for  fif 
teen  thousand  dollars  would  be  due  the  following  week.  We 
could  not  pay  it,  and  a  suit  for  foreclosure  would  be  the 
immediate  result.  For  the  holder,  Mr.  Glynn,  was  a  prompt 
collector.  The  carriage  and  horses  belonged  to  my  wife,  at 
least  so  we  had  always  considered ;  but  Mr.  Norwood  inti 
mated  a  grave  doubt  as  to  the  legal  point.  The  fact  was,  I 
had  been  in  the  habit  when  I  was  in  business  before,  of 
appropriating  a  certain  sum  for  the  rent  of  the  house,  pre 
cisely  as  if  it  belonged  to  a  stranger.  Not  that  my  wife 
really  kept  a  separate  purse;  but  she  enjoyed,  and  so  did  I, 
the  appropriating  of  this  amount  to  certain  expenditures 
which,  although  not  absolutely  necessary,  are  yet  continually 
incurred  in  every  family  of  competent  means.  If  a  new 

shawl  was  to  be  purchased,  or  a  piece  of  plate,  or  a  birth- 
4* 


82  U '  N  D  E  K  C  U  K  R  E  N  T  S 

day  present  made,  or  if  some  unlooked-for  circumstance,  like 
the  marriage  of  a  friend  or  some  public  festivity,  involved 
the  ordering  a  new  dress,  this  fund,  under  the  treasureship 
of  my  wife,  Avas  drawn  on.  It  was  thus  made  a  source  of 
much  happiness,  and  it  was  with  pleasure  I  recommended 
the  habit  on  starting  in  business  again ;  on  a  smaller  scale 
to  be  sure,  for  first  had  to  be  deducted  the  interest  money, 
and  only  the  balance  between  it  and  what  would  be  a 
proper  rent  for  the  house,  went  to  make  up  this  purse.  Our 
horses  and  carriage  were  sold  on  my  first  failure.  After  I 
resumed  business,  my  wife  laid  aside  the  rent-money  to  pur 
chase  a  new  establishment.  Only  at  the  commencement  of 
that  very  year  had  she  gained  the  necessary  sum.  And  it 
was  one  of  the  petty  annoyances  consequent  on  my  present 
reverse,  that  it  should  come  so  soon  after  this  special  event. 
Now,  it  was  considered  doubtful  by  my  counsel  if  my  wife 
could  avail  herself  of  this  property,  or  the  proceeds  of  it, 
as  against  an  uncompromising  and  active  creditor;  such  men, 
for  example,  as  Bulldog  was  acting  for. 

Since  that  period  an  effective  law  has  been  passed  by  the 
legislature  of  the  state  of  New  York  giving  adequate  pro 
tection  to  the  separate  property  of  married  women  ;  a  tardy 
but  most  necessary  acknowledgment  of  their  rights. 

The  making  of  an  assignment  was  forced  on  us  so  sud 
denly — the  change  in  our  prospects  from  the  expected  suc 
cessful  compromise  to  this  untoward  step,  that  I  had  had  no 
time  to  decide  what  was  to  be  done  in  detail.  I  had  a  right 
to  count  on  some  sort  of  an  attack  from  the  enemy  on  the 
following  day.  What  was  it  to  be  ?  Thinking  it  over  so 
much  annoyed  and  irritated  me.  It  seemed  as  if  we  had 


OF      W  A  L  L-  S  T  R  K  E  T .  3.} 

been  extravagant  in  keeping  a  carnage  and  in  the  order  of 
our  household,  and  so  I  told  my  wife,  in  a  querulous  tone 
(as  if  I  had  any  reason  to  complain  of  her !)  and  I  went  on 
in  the  strain  that  men  are  apt  to  pursue  under  similar  cir 
cumstances,  and  which  is  a  species  of  littleness  in  our  natures 
I  never  could  account  for. 

"  The  fact  is,"  I  continued,  "  we  have  not  been  economical 
enough ;  we  have  lived  too  fast.  There  is  Alison  now,  who 
came  from  the  other  side  with  a  petty  agency  for  spool- 
thread  ;  he  pays  this  day  but  six  hundred  dollars  rent  for 
his  house ;  lives  frugally,  and  is  already  one  of  the  heaviest 
commission  merchants  in  the  city.  JSJ"o,  my  dear,  we  have 
been  going  on  at  too  fast  a  rate  altogether." 

"  Charles,"  replied  my  wife,  "  I  do  not  like  to  hear  you 
speak  in  this  way.  We  have  not  lived  too  fast.  If  we  have 
lived  in  a  measure  expensively,  it  has  not  been  a  wasteful 
or  a  heedless  expenditure.  Tell  me,  would  you  like  to  be 
such  a  man  as  Mr.  Alison  ?  Would  you  wish  me  to  be  like 
his  wife?  No,  there  are  habits  acquired  along  with  the 
mere  labor  of  accumulation  that  no  wealth  can  compensate 
for.  It  is  true  we  have  lived  generously,  and  I  am  glad  we 
have.  We  do  not  carry  about  with  us  cramped-up,  narrow, 
sordid  natures,  such  as  utter  devotion  to  gain  produces. 
Besides,  Charles,  be  honest :  tell  me,  were  our  household 
expenses  the  cause  of  your  embarrassments  ?  Had  we  lived 
on  one  half  of  what  we  did,  would  it  have  made  any  differ 
ence?  No,  indeed.  Really,  then,  you  have  had  the  advan 
tage  of  Mr.  Alison,  because  you  have  lived  as  became  a 
gentleman,  and  you  cannot  be  robbed  of  what  you  have 
enjoyed,  nor  of  its  liberalizing  influences.  If  Mr.  Alison 


84  UNDERCURRENTS 

fail,  what  has  he  to  look  back  on  that  can  give  him  the 
slightest  satisfaction  ?" 

I  smiled,  pronounced  my  wife  in  the  right,  asked  pardon 
for  my  ill-timed  remark,  and  then  the  discussion  of  our  pros 
pects  was  resumed. 

Another  important  question  was  about  the  furniture  in 
our  house.  Originally  it  was  purchased  by  my  wife,  and 
the  insurance  on  it  as  well  as  on  the  house  was  in  her  name. 
But  a  large  proportion  had  been  changed  by  substituting 
new  articles,  as  the  old  got  out  of  repair,  and  which  I  had 
paid  for.  The  furniture  was  doubtless  at  the  mercy  of  the 
first  creditor  who  obtained  a  judgment  against  me.  Bull 
dog  had  commenced  the  first  suit,  and  his  would  be  the  first 
execution. 

"  After  all,  Charles,  is  it  not  best  to  propitiate  this  man  ? 
He  offers  on  certain  conditions,  which  are  not  impossible,  to 
carry  out  your  plans  for  you.  Look  at  it  deliberately.  On 
the  one  side,  absolute  pecuniary  ruin,  and  whatever  that 
shall  entail ;  on  the  other,  a  return  to  active  business — suc 
cessful  business — with  the  power  sooner  or  later  to  pay  all 
your  debts,  so  that  all  will  fare  as  well  as  this  man  you  have 
now  to  pay.  Ought  you  not,  for  the  sake  of  your  family, 
to  accept  this  means  of  extricating  yourself?" 

"Do  you  think  I  ought  to  accept  his  proposition?"  I  asked. 

"I  do  not  know;  I  will  not  say;  I  cannot  decide.  I  only 
ask  you  to  reconsider  your  decision — to  carefully  reflect  be 
fore  you  finally  reject  his  offer." 

"  I  am  inclined  to  think  he  considers  it  final  after  the  sum 
mary  way  I  expelled  him  from  the  library,"  I  said,  unable 
to  repress  a  grim  smile  of  satisfaction. 


OF      WALL-STREET.  85 

"  Such  a  miserable  wretch  is  insensible  to  insult." 

"  I  suppose  so."  And  thereupon  I  silently  canvassed  the 
matter  over  again.  I  permitted  to  rise  before  me  the  pic 
ture  of  a  happy  household,  a  prosperous  business,  position, 
friends,  social  life — all  these  to  be  retained.  The  reverse  of 
the  picture  a  dark,  unfathomable  blank.  Only  secure  Bull 
dog's  influence  with  a  thousand-dollar  fee — an  extra  thou 
sand  for  Goulding — that  is  all.  "  Be  not  righteous  overmuch ; 
why  shouldst  thou  destroy  thyself?  Think  of  the  sea  of 
troubles  you  will  enter  on  to-morrow !" 

Was  I  base  enough  to  compound  a  felony  ?  Could  I  live 
out  of  the  wages  of  vile  iniquities  ?  Would  I  pay  a  pre 
mium  for  highway  robbery,  theft,  picking  of  pockets,  sub 
ornation  of  perjury,  whatever  else  was  low  and  vile?  If 
not,  what  had  I  to  do  with  Bulldog  ? 

"My  dear,  I  have  decided!" 

"  Well." 

"  No !  a  thousand  times  no !" 

"  You  have  spoken  as  becomes  my  husband.  Charles,  I 
did  waver.  I  hesitate  no  longer.  You  are  right." 

Thus  deciding — thus  supported  in  my  decision — holding 
my  wife's  hand,  we  silently  renewed  the  pledge  made  to 
each  other  at  the  altar  many  years  before — "for  better,  for 


86  UNDERCURRENTS 


CHAPTER    X. 

THE      ARREST. 

I  WAS  in  the  act  of  putting  on  my  coat  the  next  morning, 
after  breakfast,  preparatory  to  going  to  the  counting-room, 
when  some  one  was  announced  as  wishing  to  see  me.  His 
name — for  he  considerately  sent  it  in — was  Bellows.  As 
I  had  no  acquaintance  bearing  that  appellation,  I  asked 
the  servant  what  kind  of  looking  individual  Mr.  BelloAVS 
might  be. 

"  A  very  pleasant-spoken  man,  sir,  was  the  reply ;  w  seems 
a  civil,  nice  person." 

"  Ask  him  in." 

"  I  did,  sir ;  but  he  said  he  only  wanted  to  speak  with 
you  a  minute." 

My  wife  looked  at  me  with  apprehension. 

"  Very  well,  tell  him  I  will  see  him  directly." 

"  Charles,"  said  my  wife,  "  I  am  afraid  this  is  some  fresh 
trouble." 

"Well,"  I  replied,  "if  it  be  so,  the  sooner  it  is  met  the 
sooner  it  will  be  over."  With  that  I  proceeded  to  the  hall, 
where  Mr.  Bellows  was  waiting. 

My  servant  was  right.  I  saw  a  well-dressed  man,  with  a 
pleasant  expression  of  countenance,  not  more  than  twenty- 
five  or  thirty  years  old,  who  bowed  politely  as  I  approached. 
The  brief  time  I  had  to  form  an  opinion  of  him  from  his 


OF      W  ALL-8TEEET.  87 

appearance  baffled  any  conjecture.  Evidently  he  was  not  in 
what  is  called  polite  society,  but  he  exhibited  a  peculiar  ease 
of  manner  which  few  possess  who  are  not  accustomed  to  it ; 
in  short,  he  appeared  perfectly  at  home  as  he  stood  patiently 
waiting  for  me. 

"Mr.  Parkinson?" 

It  was  thus  he  desired  to  be  assured  of  my  identity. 

I  bowed. 

"  I  have  some  papers  here  which  I  wish  to  hand  to  you," 
he  said,  in  a  tone  so  bland  that  a  by-stander  might  have 
thought  he  was  inviting  me  to  a  wedding.  Thereupon  he 
took  from  the  breast-pocket  of  his  coat  two  documents, 
which  he  presented  to  me.  Yet,  although  his  errand  seemed 
concluded,  he  showed  no  signs  of  leaving. 

"  You  are " 

"  A  deputy-sheriff." 

"  Walk  in  for  a  few  moments  till  I  can  look  at  what 
you  have  given  me."  And  Deputy-Sheriff  Bellows  politely 
accompanied  me  to  the  library.  Despite  every  effort  to  be 
cool  and  self-possessed,  I  was  not  at  all  so.  I  looked  ner 
vously  over  the  papers  in  my  hand,  and  could  get  no  further 
than  "  City  and  County  of  New  York,  55.,"  before  I  found 
myself  re-reading  this  apparently  harmless  statement  of  a 
geographical  position.  I  raised  my  eyes  to  the  officer, 
and  in  the  expression  of  his  countenance  I  thought  I  dis 
covered  a  look  as  if  he  would  say :  "  Pray  don't  take  the 
matter  so  hard,  it  wont  amount  to  much."  So  I  thought 
I  could  not  do  better  than  follow  up  this  interpretation 
by  asking  him  to  tell  me  what  was  the  object  of  the 
service. 


88  U  X  D  E  R  C  U  K  R  E  N  T  S 

"Sheriff,"  I  said,  "will  you  please  explain  this  matter, 
and  say  what  you  have  to  perform  ?" 

"  It  is  a  warrant  under  the  Still  well  Act,"  said  the  officer. 
"You  will  have  to  go  before  the  judge,  and  bail  must  be 
put  in.  My  duty  is  to  take  you  at  once  before  Judge  Cal- 
croft,  but  you  will  of  course  want  to  see  your  counsel  first. 
I  will  accompany  you  wherever  you  wish  to  go." 

He  would  accompany  me.  That  was  really  very  kind, 
very  considerate  ;  but  a  queer  sensation  came  over  me  when 
I  stood  there  for  the  first  time  under  ARREST.  A  strange, 
odd  feeling  it  was  that  I  could  not  stir  one  step  without  this 
man,  in  any  direction.  His  very  civility — a  kind  of  patient 
good-nature — while  I  really  appreciated  it,  actually  gave  me 
a  more  forcible  idea  of  the  situation  I  was  in  than  any  dis 
courteous  or  illiberal  course  he  could  pursue.  Had  he,  in  a 
bluff,  harsh  manner,  demanded  I  should  go  instantly  with 
him,  I  should  not  have  felt  half  so  much  the  force  of  that 
warrant  as  I  did  when  the  officer,  wishing  to  put  me  quite 
at  ease,  told  me  to  take  my  time,  he  would  accommo 
date  himself  to  my  movements  as  far  as  possible,  while 
I  knew  he  was  destined  to  be  my  companion,  nolens  vo- 
lenSj  till  released  from  his  society  by  order  of  the  proper 
tribunal. 

"  You  say  bail  is  to  be  put  in  ?"  I  inquired. 

"Yes,  if  you  wish  an  adjournment.  I  don't  suppose  you 
will  be  ready  to  go  right  into  an  examination." 

"  Bail,"  I  repeated  to  myself.  And  I  began  to  cast  about 
for  friends  who  would  under  such  circumstances  be  ready. 
If  you  have  never  suddenly  found  yourself  in  any  emer 
gency  which  required  the  guaranty  of  two  names  with  yours 


OF      WALL-STKEET.  89 

to  enable  you  to  walk  out  of  your  own  house  free,  let  me 
ask  you  to  stop  a  moment  and  consider  whom  in  such  case 
among  all  your  acquaintances  you  would  apply  to  for  this 
service.  Possibly  the  names  will  not  embrace  those  with 
whom  you  are  most  intimate.  You  will  be  much  more  apt 
to  select  some  old-fashioned,  considerate  individual,  on  whose 
judgment  and  experience  you  depend  to  take  a  just  view 
of  the  necessities  of  your  own  requirements.  Perhaps  you 
may  be  surprised  that  on  a  careful  marshalling  of  friends 
you  find  so  few  whom  you  feel  you  can  rely  on  to  go  with 
you  on  a  "bail  bond." 

In  my  state,  I  was  greatly  embarrassed  to  decide  who  to 
ask ;  for  I  was  in  no  condition  to  return  the  favor ;  and  a 
large  proportion  of  those  I  called  friends  were  the  last  I 
would  request  a  service  of  this  kind  of.  Here  was  a  test. 
After  considering  a  time,  I  could  think  of  no  one  except  my 
counsel,  Mr.  Norwood.  I  would  tell  him  how  I  was  situ 
ated,  and  ask  him  what  I  should  do.  I  was  but  a  few  min 
utes  revolving  these  matters,  while  the  officer  sat  waiting. 
In  sharp  times  we  think  fast  and  much.  I  found  myself 
taking  a  new  admeasurement  of  most  things  under  the  sun. 
Many  of  what  I  considered  fixed  ideas,  began  to  change  or 
melt  away  like  dissolving  views  ;  others,  quite  faint  before, 
became  firmly  established.  It  seemed,  apropos  of  myself, 
as  if  every  thing  in  the  world  had  broken  loose  and  was 
driven  hither  and  yon,  helter-skelter,  while  preparing  to  form 
again  in  regular  place.  That  morning  I  think  I  began,  among 
other  things,  to  appreciate  the  sense  of  the  term  LIBERTY.  I 
am  sure  I  never  did  before.  Now,  when  I  was  absolutely 
under  the  control  of  a  man  who  could  say,  "You  shall  not 


90  UNDERCURRENTS 

rest  there;  you  shall  come  here;"  even  if  such  control  was 
to  be  but  temporary,  I  learned  a  practical  lesson  of  its 
sweets. 

I  thanked  Mr.  Bellows  for  his  patience  and  told  him  I  was 
ready  to  go,  and  we  proceeded  to  the  office  of  Norwood  and 
Case.  I  bade  the  children  good  morning  as  usual.  They 
suspected  nothing,  although  Charley  stared  at  the  officer  a 
little  as  we  passed  out.  My  wife  was  in  her  own  room. 

As  we  walked  along,  he  seemed  inclined  to  enter  into  con 
versation. 

"This  sort  of  thing  can't  hold,"  he  said.  "It  has  been 
tried  on  before,  but  the  parties  have  always  settled.  I  don't 
believe  Mr.  Norwood  will  advise  you  to  settle.  For  my 
part,  I  would  like  to  see  the  question  tested.  I  don't  ap 
prove  of  such  doings.  It's  a  great  mistake  if  people  think 
we  care  to  execute  such  a  process  as  this.  Not  at  all ;  and* 
although  Bulldog  brings  a  great  deal  of  business  into  our 
office,  I  never  want  to  find  one  of  his  cases  in  my  box." 

Before  we  reached  Mr.  Norwood's,  my  conductor  became 
very  communicative,  and  I  learned  a  good  deal  from  him 
about  Bulldog  which  the  reader  is  in  general  sufficiently 
acquainted  with  from  what  I  have  already  said.  It  was  in 
fact  a  full  confirmation  of  Mr.  Case's  statements  of  the  act 
ings  and  doings  of  the  creature. 

Fortunately  I  found  both  Mr.  Norwood  and  Mr.  Case  in 
their  office.  Soon  I  was  closeted  with  the  former,  Mr.  Bel 
lows  manifesting  an  entire  absence  of  responsibility  as  soon 
as  he  saw  me  in  the  hands  of  my  counsel.  I  exhibited  the 
papers,  spoke  of  the  situation  of  my  furniture  and  of  my 
horses  and  carriage,  suggested  that  in  due  course  Bulldog 


OF      WALL-STREET.  91 

(that  is,  Goulding)  would  first  obtain  judgment  and  execu 
tion. 

"  We  must  block  them  there,"  exclaimed  he.  "  This  is 
private  property,  and  I  cannot  put  it  on  the  Company's 
schedule ;  but  in  fifteen  minutes  I  will  draw  a  short  assign 
ment  to  protect  any  private  debts  you  may  have.  I  named 
several,  and  in  a  very  short  space  of  time  the  document  was 
prepared  and  executed. 

"  There  ;  so  much  for  that,"  said  Norwood.  "  Now  I 
am  at  leisure  this  morning,  and  shall  insist  on  going  on  with 
the  case. 

"  But  if  we  do  not  get  through,"  I  said,  there  is  bail  to 
be  procured." 

"  I  will  take  care  of  that,"  was  the  reply. 

So  we  all  started  for  the  "  Hall,"  where  Judge  Calcroft 
was  sitting  in  chambers.  He  looked  half  ashamed  on  seeing 
me,  for  I  had  a  slight  acquaintance  with  him.  At  the  same 
time  Bulldog  entered,  he  having  been  duly  notified  by  the 
sheriff  of  our  appearance.  As  he  came  into  the  room  lie 
spoke  to  me  in  a  loud  voice,  "  Good  morning,  Mr.  Parkin 
son,"  as  if  nothing  disagreeable  had  ever  occurred  between 
us.  I  scarcely  nodded  in  return. 

"  I  suppose,  Mr.  Norwood,  you  wish  to  enter  into  the  or 
dinary  bond  to  plaintiff  and  take  an  adjournment." 

"Not  at  all,"  replied  Mr.  Norwood,  who  was  all  the 
while  busy  writing.  "  We  controvert  under  oath,  as  you 
shall  see  presently,  and  are  ready  to  submit  to  an  examina 
tion." 

"  The  devil  you  are,"  said  Bulldog,  who  only  wanted  to 
gain  time  till  his  judgment  could  be  obtained,  and  mean- 


92  UNDERCURRENTS 

while  have  me  bound  not  to  make  any  disposition  of  my 
property.  "  Are  you  aware,  sir,"  he  continued,  "  that  this 
examination  will  take  up  more  than  one  or  two,  or  even 
three  sessions  ?" 

"  Bulldog,"  interrupted  Norwood,  "  you  are  too  late ; 
my  clients  made  an  assignment  on  Saturday.  Now,"  con 
tinued  my  counsel,  "just  swear  to  that  before  the  judge,  and 
we  are  ready  to  proceed." 

"  Bulldog  was  furious,  but  he  could  not  help  himself.  He 
consoled  himself,  however,  by  subjecting  me  to  a  long, 
and  what  seemed  a  very  impertinent  examination,  until  the 
Judge  said  he  could  sit  no  longer,  and  the  matter  must  of 
course  be  postponed  by  order  of  the  court.  I  was  forced, 
therefore,  to  put  in  the  required  bond,  and  Bulldog  had  thus 
the  satisfaction  of,  in  one  sense,  carrying  the  day  by  his  per 
severance,  aided  by  the  countenance  of  Calcroft,  who  it  was 
too  evident  was  in  a  degree  under  his  influence.  The  affair 
was  thus  concluded,  and  I  may  as  well  observe  here  that 
I  heard  no  more  of  it.  Bulldog,  seeing  we  were  deter 
mined  to  meet  him  boldly,  and  finding  also  that  he  was  too 
late  to  throw  any  obstacle  in  the  way  of  an  assignment, 
failed  to  appear  at  the  adjourned  day,  and  the  case  was 
dismissed. 

As  we  were  leaving  the  court-room  Mr.  Norwood  asked 
me  if  I  had  given  the  sheriff  any  thing.  I  said  I  had  not. 
"  Hand  him  five  dollars,"  he  whispered.  Going  out  together, 
I  took  occasion  to  follow  his  suggestion,  thanking  the  oificer 
at  the  same  time  for  his  politeness.  Mr.  Bellows  took  the 
money  without  the  least  hesitation,  quite  as  a  matter  of 
course,  remarking,  however,  as  he  thanked  me,  that  if  they 


OF     WALL-STREET.  93 

(the  officers)  were  confined  to  their  legal  fees  it  would  be  im 
possible  for  them  to  live  and  support  a  family ;  that  they 
endeavored  to  treat  those  whom  they  were  required  to  ar 
rest  with  as  much  courtesy  as  possible,  consistent  with  pru 
dence  ;  and  so  we  separated.*  Thus  I  acquired  some  practi 
cal  insight  into  the  sheriff's  department,  and  also  got  a 
glimpse  of  both  sides  of  the  legal  profession — one  very  hon 
orable,  one  very  base. 

I  have  been  thus  minute  in  chronicling  these  circumstan 
ces,  because  it  is  my  design  to  record  just  how,  in  this  crisis, 
a  selfish,  bad  man  was  enabled  to  destroy  my  plans  and  cast 
a  blight  on  my  prospects.  Examples  like  mine  are  not  in 
frequent.  The  business  world  suddenly  misses  one  of  its 
active  members ;  a  few  questions  are  asked,  a  sympathetic 
ejaculation  of  "  poor  fellow"  uttered,  and  the  current  sweeps 
by  and  he  is  forgotten.  But  the  one  left  high  and  dry  does 
not  forget.  Wistfully  he  looks  after  his  comrades,  who  are 
energetically  pursuing  their  various  avocations,  from  which 
he  is  debarred.  He,  so  lately  a  prominent  actor  among  them, 
is  now  absolutely  powerless.  He  can  neither  buy  nor  sell. 
He  cannot  perform  a  single  business  transaction  requiring 
the  use  and  possession  of  property.  His  name  is  not  worth 
the  paper  it  is  written  on.  He  knows  it,  and  he  feels  it.  It 
is  idle  to  attempt  to  make  an  advantageous  purchase.  "  Six 

*  Mr.  PARKINSON'S  account  of  his  first  introduction  to  Deputy-Sheriff  BELLOWS,  and 
of  his  intercourse  with  him,  is  a  very  natural  one.  The  sheriff's  deputies  in  tho  city 
of  New  York  are  generally  civil  and  obliging  in  the  discharge  of  their  duty,  and  the 
openly  receiving  of  a  gratuity  for  time  spent  in  accommodating  a  party  under  arrest, 
in  visiting  counsel  and  finding  friends,  is  not  improper.  We  have  known  several  in 
stances  where  an  officer  has  been  offered  a  handsome  fee  to  induce  him  to  arrest  a 
defendant  at  an  unseasonable  hour  and  hurry  him  to  Eldridge-strcet,  which  waa 
peremptorily  refused.  Cases  to  the  contrary  may  have  occurred,  but  not  within  our 
observation. — EDITOR  OF  MEMOIRS. 


94  UNDERCURRENTS 

months'  credit,"  to  him,  means  "  cash  on  delivery ;"  and  he 
dare  not  even  at  that  take  the  smallest  article  in  his  own 
name.  And  why  ?  Because  his  creditors,  or  some  one  or 
more  of  them,  refuse  to  release  him.  They  declare  that  he 
shall  remain  in  bondage.  They  hold  him  enslaved.  He  has 
a  will  and  a  hope,  and  much  energy  ;  they  destroy  all.  He 
has  a  family  Avho  depend  on  him — these  are  beggared.  He 
turns  in  every  direction  to  find  some  gleam  of  .light,  and 
finds  none.  And  the  world  is  impoverished  to  the  extent  of 
the  loss  of  this  man's  labor  and  industry.  There  is  but  one 
true  course  when  an  individual  carit  pay  his  debts,  and  that 
is  for  his  creditors  to  release  him  and  let  him  go  to  work. 
When  a  man  is  down  he  should  be  helped  to  rise;  return 
him  to  the  world,  to  his  position,  and  so  save  him. 

It  is  but  just  to  the  merchants  of  New  York  to  say,  that 
as  a  class  they  are  indulgent  and  liberal  toward  those  who 
are  forced  to  suspend.  When  convinced  the  debtor  is  hon 
est,  they  are  apt  to  take  the  first  offer,  and  let  him  go  on 
with  as  little  delay  as  possible.  But  there  are,  at  the  same 
time,  a  good  many  such  men  as  Goulding,  who  manage  by 
one  plan  or  another  to  secure  payment  in  full,  or  push  the 
unfortunate  debtor  into  inevitable  bankruptcy.  I  wish  I 
knew  some  method  of  reaching  these  people.  As  I  have 
remarked,  most  of  them  do  fail  themselves  eventually,  but 
a  portion  grow  fat  on  what  they  thus  wring  from  the  unfor 
tunate  and  despairing.  Even  now  I  can  scarcely  restrain 
the  expression  of  a  solemn  curse  wrhich  rises  to  my  lips 
when  I  think  of  Goulding — Goulding,  riot  Oilnut.  Shaver 
and  sharper  and  unscrupulous  as  he  is,  Oilnut  would  not 
have  arrested  me.  He  would  manage  to  secure  payment  in 


OF      W  ALL-STKEET.  95 

full,  but  not  brutally,  nor  with  legal  violence.  The  reader 
must  therefore  have  patience  while  I  go  still  more  into  the 
detail  of  my  misfortunes,  showing  how  gradually  I  was 
forced  down.  It  will  be  seen  that  by  the  action  of  Bulldog 
I  was  compelled  to  make  an  assignment  of  the  household 
furniture,  and  horses  and  carriage,  which  really  belonged  to 
my  wife,  but  for  which  legally  she  was  not  protected.  Here 
was  the  commencement  of  the  break-up.  For  in  a  few  days 
there  would  be  obtained  three  judgments  against  me  in 
favor  of  Bulldog,  Screwtight  and  Company,  and  Gripeall ; 
and  the  assignee  would  be  forced  to  act.  As  I  attempted 
to  look  this  state  of  things  in  the  face,  a  sense  of  horror 
would  sometimes  overpower  me.  Sell  our  furniture!  Leave 
our  house — my  wife's  house — purchased  with  the  money 
left  to  her  by  her  father  to  insure  her  a  home  independent 
of  the  vicissitudes  of  business.  Wretch  that  I  was  to  take 
her  money  and  lose  it ;  and  I  had  reproached  her  for  our 
expenditures.  Nearly  seventeen  years  in  that  house.  The 
children  all  born  there.  Every  room  hallowed  by  some 
happy  association.  Was  there  no  help  for  this  ?  Was  it 
really  to  be?  Perhaps  I  was  only  dreaming.  At  the  last 
moment  relief  would  come  from  some  quarter.  Yes,  relief 
would  come.  During  the  day  I  managed  to  drive  off  the 
thick  black  brood;  but  at  night,  after  a  short  and  unrefresh- 
ing  slumber,  I  would  wake ;  and  oh !  the  agony  which  dur 
ing  its  silent  watches  held  possession  of  me  until  the  morn 
ing  broke,  and  I  hastened  to  rise.  I  know  of  no  species  of 
suffering  which  compares  with  this — no  affliction,  no  pain, 
no  trouble.  There  is  no  resisting  it.  No  armor  of  reason 
or  philosophy  is  proof  against  it.  Long  afterward,  when  I 


90  UNDEK.CUBBENTS 

had  descended  to  my  position  of  chronic  misfortune,  GOD 
was  merciful  to  me,  and  I  could  sleep.  Now  this  "  chief 
nourisher"  was  denied  to  me,  and  in  its  place  I  encoun 
tered  those  dark  fancies  of  the  night  which  few  will  fail  to 
recognize  who  have  had  their  season  of  calamitous  re 
verses. 


OF     WALL-STREET.  9*7 


CHAPTER    XI. 

AN      AGREEABLE      DISAPPOINTMENT. 

DAT  after  day  ran  by.  Affairs  went  on  in  the  world's 
old  routine,  quite  irrespective  of  my  situation.  Our  as 
signee  was  quietly  at  work,  winding  up  as  fast  as  he  could 
what  had  been  placed  in  his  hands.  Rollins  had  been  em 
ployed  at  my  suggestion  to  aid  him.  In  December  judg 
ments  were  duly  entered  against  me  in  the  three  suits  I  have 
already  mentioned.  The  law  at  that  time  (it  has  since  been 
changed)  provided  for  a  delay  of  thirty  days  before  execu 
tion  could  be  issued — a  short  respite  for  which  I  felt  thank 
ful.  On  the  first  day  of  December,  Mr.  Glynn  sent  as  usual 
for  his  semi-annual  interest.  I  wrote  him  a  note  stating  my 
situation  and  saying  that  my  wife  intended  to  dispose  of  her 
house,  and  asking  of  him  some  indulgence.  I  received  hi 
answer  the  follo\ving : 

NEW  YORK,  December  3,  1841. 
"  MR.  CHARLES  E.  PARKINSON  : 

"  DEAR  SIR  :  I  have  your  note  of  yesterday,  and  in  reply 
would  state,  that,  considering  the  unexpected  disarrange 
ment  of  your  business  affairs,  I  shall  postpone  any  applica 
tion  to  your  wife  or  yourself  for  interest  on  your  bond  and 
mortgage  for  fifteen  thousand  dollars  until  the  first  day  of 
5 


98  U  N  D  E  11  C  U  K  K  E  N  T  S 

June  next,  unless  you  should  earlier  have  disposed  of  the 
property.  "  Your  obedient  servant, 

"  E.  P.  GLYNN." 

Here  was  another  pleasant  disappointment.  Mr.  Glynn 
was  looked  on  as  a  close,  severe  man,  prompt  and  exacting. 
And  he  was  so.  But  this  proved  him  to  be  also  considerate 
and  just.  The  world  frequently  sets  a  totally  wrong  esti 
mate  on  such  men.  They  may  have  begun  life  soft-hearted 
enough,  but  after  a  while  experience  teaches  them  that  in 
money  matters  they  cannot  rely  on  one  promise  out  of  ten 
which,  is  made  to  them,  except  it  is  put  in  a  business  form, 
and  made  subject  to  business  penalties.  And  so  these  per 
sons  become  sharp  and  strict,  and  apparently  uncompromis 
ing  ;  when,  should  a  proper  occasion  present,  they  show  a 
conscientious  feeling  at  the  bottom.  y- 

Well,  here  was  ample  time  for  us  to  dispose  of  the  house. 
What  a  relief !  blessings  on  Mr.  Glynn  !  For  from  the  sur 
plus  which  the  sale  of  it  would  produce  above  the  mort 
gage,  was  our  only  hope  for  the  present.  We  expected  to 
be  able  to  dispose  of  it  for  twenty-five  thousand  dollars ; 
since  property  in  Broadway  was  fast  increasing  in  value, 
and  on  and  adjoining  the  spot  where  our  house  once  stood, 
stores  are  erected  worth  almost  a  fabulous  price.  I  breathed 
with  a  lighter  heart  after  receiving  that  letter,  and  I  began 
now  to  calculate  what  was  best  to  do  should  we  succeed  to 
our  mind  in  making  the  sale.  Mr.  Norwood  was  consulted 
about  the  furniture.  He  was  my  wife's  trustee,  and,  let  me 
say  here,  from  first  to  last  our  firm,  substantial,  undeviating 
friend.  My  assignment  of  furniture  embraced  only  certain 


O  F      W  A  L  L  -  S  T  B  E  E  T .  99 

valuable  articles  which  I  had  myself  purchased ;  and,  since 
we  had  determined  to  fight  Bulldog  and  his  crew,  as  Mr. 
Norwood  well  remarked,  we  should  be  careful  to  leave  no 
loophole  for  the  enemy.  So  he  went  to  work  to  make  all 
secure  before  execution  should  issue. 

Our  carnage  and  horses  Mr.  Norwood  sold  to  a  client 
just  then  in  want  of  a  neat  turn-out,  and  at  a  fair  price ; 
and  he  afterward  sold  most  of  the  furniture  mentioned  in 
my  assignment  to  an  acquaintance,  who  after  the  sale  per 
mitted  us  the  use  of  it  for  the  present.  This  was  my 
friend's  explanation,  and  I  trusted  the  whole  matter  to  him. 
In  this  way,  as  I  have  said,  the  days  ran  by.  Those  judg 
ments  coming  nearer  and  nearer  to  execution,  when  the 
war  would  be  commenced,  and  doubtless  carried  on  with 
vigor. 


100  UNDERCURRENTS 


CHAPTER    XII. 

THE      HOLIDAYS. 

CHRISTMAS  was  approaching  !  Christmas  with  its  spark 
ling  frosts,  its  cheerful  merry-making,  its  round  of  pleasant 
visiting  and  interchange  of  gifts  and  happy  congratula 
tions.  This  was  to  be  our  last  Christmas  in  the  old  home. 
How  should  it  be  spent  ?  In  sackcloth  and  ashes ;  or 
bravely,  joyously,  as  of  yore  ?  I  declared  for  the  latter. 
My  courage  was  getting  back  to  its  normal  condition. 
"  There  shall  be  a  Christmas-party  for  the  children  and  a 
Christmas-tree,  and  open  house  on  New- Year's.  Neither 
sullenly  nor  sorrowfully  will  we  look  toward  our  new  con 
dition,  but  with  hope  and  resolution.  Come,"  and  I  led  my 
wife  into  our  parlors  and  planned  how  it  should  be  as  we 
walked  up  and  down. 

"  '  HODIE  mihi : 
Cras  tibi.' 

"  Do  you  understand  me,  Florence  ?  'tis  a  scrap  from  my 
college  days.  It  is  the  carpe  diem  of  the  philosopher. 
You  remember  that  painting  in  the  Gallery  at  Munich  ? 
Well,  we  will  illustrate  that.  Seventeen  years  here.  Brave 
old  years — gone,  sealed  up  for  the  judgment.  GOD  willing, 
we  will  remain  in  this  house  till  May,  and  then  we  will  close 
its  history  and  depart."  My  wife  shuddered  slightly,  very 
slightly,  yet 'I  perceived  it.  I  looked  in  her  face  and  saw 


OF      W  A  L  L-S  T  R  E  E  T.  101 

that  she  did  not  enter  into  my  cheerful  plan,  l^ut  she  said 
nothing,  and  I  did  not  tell  her  I  notico^-her  ^ijioti.ol.;.  >',  S'afbji. 
she  began  to  rally ;  she  assented  with  alacrity  to  what  I 
proposed,  and  we  both  set  to  work  to  carry  out  the  prepa 
ration  for  those  holidays. 

And  with  entire  success.  The  Christmas  presents  were 
purchased,  the  children's  party  was  fully  attended,  the  tree 
loaded  as  usual.  Two  or  three  invitations  we  accepted  our 
selves  ;  and  so  long  as  the  gay  world  perceived  no  difference 
in  us,  we  discovered  none  in  it. 

Only  I  noticed  (no  one  else  could)  that  my  wife  went 
through  all  this  as  some  appointed  task,  enduring  not  enjoy 
ing  ;  but  the  children  did  not  know  it,  and  I  was  glad  of 
that. 

New  Year's  !  It  passed  with  us  to  all  appearance  as  the 
New  Year's  of  the  previous  year.  The  accustomed  visits 
were  received,  and  I  made  the  ordinary  round  of  calls.  The 
day  was  fine,  and  the  spirits  of  every  body  elastic.  In  one 
of  the  streets  I  encountered  Bulldog.  We  brushed  closely 
past  each  other.  I  did  not  notice  him.  He,  however,  nodded 
familiarly,  exclaiming :  "  Going  it  while  you're  young,  eh  ?" 
At  the  house  of  a  mutual  acquaintance  I  met  Goulding.  He 
seemed  disposed  to  bow  as  my  eyes  fell  on  him ;  but  he 
recovered  in  time,  warned  by  a  look,  full  of  contempt,  that 
there  could  be  no  recognition  between  us.  Oddly  enough, 
coming  out  of  another  house  I  was  stopped  by  Oilnut,  who 
seized  my  hand,  and  in  his  softest  manner  asked  how  we  all 
were,  declaring  that  on  that  day  we  must  forget  any  little 
misunderstanding ;  I  smiled  in  spite  of  myself,  for  I  had 
never  nursed  my  wrath  against  the  man  for  actino-  out  his 


102  U  X  B  E  K  C  U  R  R  E  N  T  S 

nature,  and  I  was  thinking  of  the  ridiculous  way  he  an 
swered  me  when  I  lust  left  his  office.  So  I  laughed,  but 
made  no  remark,  and  we  both  passed  on. 

When  this  first  day  of  the  year  was  over,  the  visits  all 
paid,  all  received ;  the  children  in  bed,  Miss  Alice  gone  to 
her  room,  while  the  gas  still  burnt  brightly  through  the  fine 
parlors,  over  the  debris  of  the  entertainment  that  strewed 
the  tables,  I  stood  before  the  fire,  looking  around  on  the 
scene.  My  wife  came  toward  me  from  the  further  end  of 
the  apartments.  Putting  both  her  hands  around  my  neck, 
she  looked  an  instant  in  my  face,  and  burst  into  tears. 

Without  a  word  I  placed  her  gently  beside  me,  on  one  of 
the  sofas,  where,  leaning  her  head  on  my  shoulder,  she  sobbed 
like  one  broken-hearted  for  many  minutes.  Gradually  she 
grew  composed.  Then  she  raised  her  face,  and  taking  one 
of  my  hands,  she  pressed  it  convulsively  against  her  heart, 
and  with  much  effort  she  said :  "  There !  it  is  over ;  it  would 
come,  Charles,  and  I  could  not  help  it.  I  feel  well  now." 

There  was  no  need  of  words  between  us.  In  that  strug 
gle  of  the  spirit  she  was  not  unconscious  of  her  husband's 
sympathy.  Any  assurance  of  it  would  have  jarred  that 
delicate  chord  which  encircles  united  hearts.  I  knew  but 
too  well  what  she  had  passed  through  in  that  brief  quarter 
of  an  hour.  I  knew  but  too  well  that,  as  a  mother  strains 
to  her  breast  in  a  last  embrace  a  child  embarking  on  some 
returnless  journey,  so  she  with  all  the  sorrow  and  anguish 
of  a  lost  love,  had  taken  leave  of  the  dear  and  happy  and 
unreturning  past,  and  even  now  had  made  ready  to  meet 
the  gloomy  prospects  of  the  FUTURE. 


OF      WALL-STREET.  103 


CHAPTER    XIII. 

SIMPKINS. 

Two  weeks  afterward  I  sat  in  the  counting-room,  no 
longer  my  counting-room,  looking  over  various  papers, 
and  examining  various  accounts;  when  a  person  entered 
whose  face  was  familiar,  but  when  or  where  I  had  before 
seen  it  I  could  not  remember.  I  was  not  long,  however,  in 
recalling  the  features  of  Deputy-Sheriff  Bellows.  I  won 
dered  if  I  was  again  to  be  placed  in  duress  by  that  amiable 
official.  Before  I  had  time  to  speculate  on  the  subject,  Mr. 
Bellows  had  approached,  and  begged  to  speak  to  me  in 
private.  We  withdrew  to  a  corner  of  the  room,  where  he 
exhibited  what  he  called  an  "  execution,"  and  told  me  that 
although  he  regretted  it  had  fallen  by  the  rule  of  rotation 
into  his  hands,  I  must  be  aware  he  was  forced  to  do  his 
duty;  to  which  reasonable  statement  I  assented  without 
remark. 

"  I  am  directed,"  continued  he,  "  to  levy  on  the  furniture 
in  your  house.  I  came  first  to  acquaint  you  of  this,  think 
ing  you  might  be  able  to  arrange  it." 

I  explained  to  him  that  a  portion  of  that  furniture  had 
been  held  by  Mr.  Norwood,  as  trustee  for  my  wife  for  many 
years,  and  that  the  remainder  did  not  belong  to  me,  and 
that  he  would  certainly  run  a  great  risk  in  attempting  to 
hold  the  property. 


104  UNDEKCUK  BENTS 

"You  forbid  my  making  a  levy,  I  presume?" 

"  Oh  !  no.  You  must  do  as  you  see  fit.  I  only  acquaint 
you  distinctly  with  the  fact  that  it  is  not  my  property  you 
will  levy  on." 

"Just  so  ;  and  I  meant  as  much  by  my  question.  I  will 
call  on  Mr.  Norwood,  and  if  he  makes  the  matter  clear,  as  I 
suppose  he  can,  we  shall  require  to  be  indemnified  before  we 
proceed  further."  Thereupon  Mr.  Bellows  took  leave  of  me. 

I  saw  nothing  more  of  him  for  a  week,  and  was  beginning 
to  congratulate  myself  on  the  easy  disposition  of  the  matter, 
when  one  morning,  just  after  breakfast,  he  came  to  our 
house,  accompanied  by  a  man  whom  it  would  puzzle  any 
body  to  describe.  It  was  difficult  to  determine  whether  he 
was  twTenty-five  or  fifty-five  years  old,  whether  he  was  an 
idiot  or  a  philosopher,  whether  dressed  shabbily  or  like  a 
gentleman,  whether  knave  or  saint.  He  kept  a  step  in  the 
rear  of  the  sheriff;  his  eyes  neither  raised  nor  depressed, 
but  with  an  utter  absence  of  expression  directed  toward  an 
imaginary  point  at  the  extreme  end  of  the  hall.  He  did 
not  turn  to  the  right  or  left,  as  I  advanced  once  more  to 
greet  his  leader  or  companion,  as  the  case  might  be. 

Deputy-Sheriff  Bellows  looked  concerned  and  distressed 
when  he  saw  me ;  he  looked  nevertheless  like  a  man  who 
had  a  painful  duty  to  perform,  and  had  made  up  his  mind 
to  go  through  with  it. 

"Very  sorry,  Mr.  Parkinson,  but  the  sheriff  has  been 
indemnified.  Wouldn't  act  till  he  had  a  perfectly  fire-proof 
bond,  then  he  was  forced  to.  No  use  saying  any  thing  about 
it.  It's  disagreeable,  but  it's  a  part  of  our  business.  I  am 
obliged  to  remove  this  property  or  put  a  man  in  charge." 


OF      WALL- STREET.  105 

He  glanced  as  he  said  this  to  the  mysterious  personage 
near  him,  who  while  shifting  his  position — a  sort  of  panto 
mime  "  Here"  to  the  sheriff's  imaginary  roll-call — never 
took  his  eyes  from  the  supposed  object  far  off  at  the  lower 
end  of  the  hall. 

A  cold  sweat  stood  on  my  forehead.  A  pain  shot  through 
my  heart.  To  be  turned  out  of  doors  with  no  warning  of 
the  coming  blow  !  I  saw  the  fatal  red  flag  of  the  auctioneer ; 
I  beheld  the  furniture  carted  off  in  every  direction,  and  we 
left  homeless,  if  not  at  the  moment  houseless.  How  I 
feared  lest  my  wife  or  some  of  the  children  would  open  the 
door  of  the  parlor  and  learn  what  was  going  on. 

Mr.  Bellows  came  to  my  relief. 

"  Better  go  at  once  and  see  Mr.  Norwood,"  he  said. 

"What's  to  be  done  meanwhile  with  your  friend  here?" 
I  asked. 

The  officer  doubtless  appreciated  my  anxiety  on  that  head, 
for,  considering  a  moment,  "  Simpkins,"  said  he,  "  you  have 
not  been  to  breakfast,  I  dare  say." 

" Not  yet"  answered  Simpkins. 

"  Very  well.  Perhaps,  Mr.  Parkinson,  you  will  allow  the 
man  to  step  down  stairs  and  get  something  to  eat,  and," 
(turning  toward  this  strange  specimen),  "  Simpkins,  you  can 
sit  a  while,  you  understand,  till  relieved.'1'' 

Simpkins  again  shifted  a  leg,  but  kept  his  eyes  at  the 
favorite  point.  However,  when  the  servant  appeared  at 
my  summons,  Simpkins  fell  into  single  n'le,  and  followed 
him  below,  while  the  deputy  bade  me  good  morning,  and  I 
started  off  rapidly  for  Mr.  Norwood's  office. 

I    was   forced   to    wait   two   hours   before   he   came  in. 
5* 


100  UNDERCURRENTS 

Meantime,  singular  as  it  seems,  I  was  chiefly  employed  in 
speculating  as  to  the  movements  of  Simpkins.  After  break 
fasting  to  his  mind  (for  I  had  told  the  servant  to  feed  him 
well),  what  would  Simpkins  understand  his  duty  to  be,  con 
sidering  that  he  was  "  in  charge"  of  every  thing  in  the 
house  ?  Would  he  be  content  to  sit  quietly  in  the  base 
ment,  or  would  he  think  proper  to  mount  to  the  parlors,  or 
perhaps,  like  a  sentinel  on  duty,  perambulate  the  house 
from  cellar  to  garret?  Would  he  explain  to  the  servants? 
Should  he  encounter  my  \vife  on  his  peregrinations,  would 
he  explain  to  her  ?  Would  he  frighten  the  children  ?  In 
short,  what  would  he  do,  or  what  might  he  not  do  ?  So 
curiously  does  the  mind  run  on  trifling  incidents  while 
under  some  severe  and  painful  process. 

At  last  Mr.  Norwood  arrived,  and  I  hastened  to  give  him 
an  account  of  what  had  transpired.  He  was  much  annoyed 
for  the  moment.  But  he  soon  recovered,  and  said  :  "  I  per 
ceive  we  must  fight  these  fellows.  What  a  piece  of  base 
humanity  that  Goulding  must  be " 

"  Bulldog,"  I  interrupted. 

"  Bulldog  !"  impatiently  exclaimed  my  counsel,  "  why,  he 
is  infinitely  less  degraded  than  his  employer.  Bulldog  is  an 
open,  undisguised  bravo,  who  tells  you  what  he  means  to  do, 
and  tries  openly  to  accomplish  it.  Goulding  is  a  covert,  cow 
ardly  knave  and  hypocrite,  without  one  redeeming  quality." 

Mr.  Norwood  checked  himself  in  his  severe  harangue, 
stepped  to  the  other  room,  and  was  closeted  for  half  an 
hour  with  his  partner.  Coming  out  he  said :  "  We  will 
take  care  of  this  matter.  You  can  go  to  your  business 
without  further  solicitude." 


OF      WALL- STREET.  107 

"  But  that  person  '  in  charge  ?' "  I  asked. 

"  Shall  be  tf^-charged,  and  that  speedily,"  said  Norwood 
with  a  smile.  "  We  will  see  to  it,  let  me  assure  you,"  he 
continued  seriously.  "  Your  house  shall  be  relieved  of  the 
nuisance.  Attend  to  your  affairs  as  usual,  give  not  another 
thought  to  this.  Good  morning." 

I  learned  afterward  that  two  separate  suits  of  replevin 
were  commenced  against  the  sheriff  and  Bulldog  jointly. 
One  of  these  by  Mr.  Norwood,  as  my  wife's  trustee ;  the 
other  by  the  gentleman  who  had  purchased  and  paid  for  a 
part  of  the  furniture,  which  he  permitted  us  the  use  of. 
Mr.  Xorwood  himself  procured  the  necessary  bondsmen, 
and  in  short  acted  the  part  of  friend  as  well  as  counsel  in 
every  particular.* 

When  I  went  home  to  dinner  the  coast  was  clear  ;  that 
extraordinary  personage,  Simpkins,  whom  I  half  expected 
to  encounter  near  the  hall-door,  had  taken  his  departure. 
Mr.  Bellows  having  called,  Simpkins  had  followed  him  away 
much  after  the  manner  of  a  well-trained  dog. 

A  very  great  relief  this ;  but  now  I  begun  to  taste  the 
fruits  of  my  recent  misfortunes.  We  were  retaining  a  pre 
carious  foothold  in  our  house  by  the  forbearance  of  Mr. 
Glynn  and  the  friendship  of  my  counsel.  Money  for  daily 
expenses  began  to  be  necessary.  Questions  of  curtailment 
in  the  household  were  raised — of  dismissing  some  of  the 

*  The  action  of  replevin  is  brought  to  recover  the  possession  of  any  "  goods  or  chat 
tels"  which  shall  have  been  wrongfully  taken.  The  plaintiff  in  such  notion,  on  giving 
the  required  security  according  to  the  statute,  is  entitled  to  a  "writ''  commanding  the 
proper  officer  to  cause  said  "goods  and  chattels"  to  bo  delivered  to  him  without 
delay. 

The  sheriff  having  taken  actual  possession  of  the  furniture  in  the  house  by  putting 
SIMI'KINS  in  charge,  it  was  necessary  to  resort  to  this  action  to  recover  it  for  the  own 
er.:,.— EDITOR  OF  MEMOIRS. 


108  UNDERCURRENTS 

servants — of  economy  in  our  wardrobe,  which  included  the 
important  point  of  making  visits,  attending  parties,  and  if 
of  attending,  then  of  giving  entertainments.  For  the  sake 
of  our  children,  my  wife  thought  it  worth  a  struggle  to  re 
tain  our  place  in  society ;  but  after  a  little  reflection  she 
saw  how  impossible  this  would  be.  Embarrassed  as  we 
were  by  a  cruel  litigation,  from  which  there  was  no  escape, 
the  small  funds  which  I  had  thus  far  provided  from  private 
sources  beginning  already  ominously  to  diminish,  we  com 
menced  to  count,  as  we  never  before  had  done,  how  much 
each  servant  cost  per  month,  and  to  scrutinize  the  bills  of 
the  grocer  and  market-man.  We  were,  in  truth,  on  allow 
ance  /  the  enemy  besieging  us.  Whence  were  to  come  sup 
plies  ?  No  more  visions  of  the  wolf:  he  was  domesticated 
within  doors:  hungry,  gnawing,  sullen — not  fierce.  In  verity, 
what  was  I  to  do  f  How  keep  alive  my  wife  and  children, 
how  clothe  them,  where  to  lodge  them  ?  "  Oh !  you  forget 
the  handsome  surplus  your  wife  will  have  on  the  sale  of  the 
house."  Yes,  for  the  moment  I  did  forget,  looking  as  we 
sometimes  do  entirely  on  the  dark  side.  Well,  there  is  a 
prospect  there,  a  sure  prospect,  I  may  say.  Delaine,  the  real- 
estate  auctioneer,  tells  me  the  property  can  readily  be  sold 
in  the  spring,  and  for  its  full  value.  I  did  forget  the  house. 
So,  girding  on  the  armor  again,  [Hope  !  Energy  !  ho\v  often 
the  heart  sinks,  and  how  often  it  is  renewed  by  these  !]  I 
addressed  myself  to  the  important  subject  of  occupation  for 
the  future. 


O  F     WALL-STREET.  109 


CHAPTER    XIV. 

FRESH    COMPLICATIONS. 

SOMEBODY  sent  ine,  a  few  days  after,  a  copy  of  the  New 
York  Evening  Post.  In  it  was  an  advertisement  with  pen 
cil-lines  drawn  around  it.  It  ran  as  follows : 

"  %riffs  Sale. 

"  By  virtue  of  three  several  writs  of  execution  to  me  directed  and  de 
livered,  I  will  expose  to  sale  at  the  vestibule  of  the  City  Hall,  in  the  city 
of  New  York,  at  twelve  o'clock,  noon,  on  Saturday,  the  twenty-third  day 
of  March  next,  all  the  right,  title  and  interest  of  CHARLES  E.  PARKIXSOX, 
which  he  had  on  the  twentieth  day  of  December,  1847,  or  any  time  there 
after,  of,  in  and  to  the  following  described  piece  or  parcel  of  property." 

Here  came  a  description  of  our  house,  and  at  the  end  of 
the  advertisement  was  the  signature  of  the  sheriff. 

The  blood  rushed  to  my  brain  as  I  read  it,  really  without 
fully  comprehending  its  import.  The  first  impression  was, 
that  all  was  gone — the  very  ground  we  stood  on  swept  away. 
I  had  received  so  many  shocks,  and  in  such  rapid  succession, 
that  absolutely  my  nervous  system  was  affected  by  them. 
On  looking  through  the  advertisement  again,  I  perceived 
that  it  was  my  "right,  title  and  interest"  which  was  to  be 
sold,  and  which,  of  course,  any  creditor  had  the  power  to 
sell  under  execution.  If  I  had  no  "right,  title  or  interest," 
then  the  creditor  would  take  nothing  by  his  motion.  What, 
therefore,  had  I  to  fear  ?  Much,  considering  who  was  di- 


UN DERC UK KENTS 

recting  this  crusade  against  me.  It  was  easy  to  make  the 
sale,  easy  for  the  party  to  purchase  my  interest,  and  take  a 
"  sheriff's  certificate"  to  that  effect,  easy  to  record  this,  so 
that  on  my  wife's  attempting  to  sell  the  house,  there  should 
appear  a  cloud  on  the  title,  and  then  a  certain  sum  forced 
out  of  us  for  removing  it,  or  the  sale  prevented.  That  was 
clearly  the  plan.  These  fellows  know  how  sensitive  capital 
is — how  cautious  men  are  as  to  title  when  making  a  perma 
nent  investment  in  real  estate.  Even  to-day.  Delaine  asked 
me  if  the  papers  were  all  straight  with  respect  to  my  wife's 
house.  He  hoped  to  sell  to  James,  the  commission-merchant, 
who  had  realized  a  large  fortune  by  dealing  in  "prints  only," 
and  had  retired,  and  was  making  investments  in  city  prop 
erty. 

I  put  the  newspaper  aside  as  my  wife  entered  the  room. 
It  seemed  as  if  it  would  be  cruel  to  acquaint  her  with  this, 
new  move  of  our  adversary. 

For,  within  a  few  days — I  was  slow  in  acknowledging  it 
to  myself — I  had  perceived  that  my  wife's  countenance  ex 
hibited  a  degree  of  pallor  which  it  never  bore  before.  She 
had,  when  not  in  conversation,  a  care-worn,  weary  look. 
The  sound  of  a  sharp,  hacking  cough  frequently  fell  on  my 
ear.  It  was  owing,  she  said,  to  a  severe  cold  taken  some 
time  since,  from  which  she  had  quite  recovered,  except  this 
occasional  tickling  in  the  throat.  That  was  all,  really,  it 
was  only  in  the  throat.  I  was  ready  to  believe  this.  It  is 
a  blessing,  sometimes,  not  to  be  clear-sighted.  Even  delay 
in  becoming  so,  we  should  be  thankful  for.  The  goodness 
of  GOD  permits  us  to  be  blind  sometimes,  that  we  may  not 
discern  too  closely  the  future. 


OF      WALL-STREET.  Ill 

However,  I  did  feel  sufficiently  anxious  about  my  wife — 
sufficiently  observing  of  her  languid  appearance — to  with 
hold  the  advertisement  which  I  had  just  read.  This  was 
the  first  instance  since  my  failure,  that  I  had  omitted  to 
mention  to  her  any  special  subject  of  annoyance.  My  habit 
was  a  selfish  one,  perhaps ;  for  it  was  a  relief  to  tell  her ;  a 
relief  to  hear  her  pleasant,  loving  voice,  rich  with  encourage 
ment  and  hope  in  reply.  But  there  was  a  stop  to  it  now. 
Here  the  road  grew  more  difficult.  I  dared  not  take  my 
companion  with  me.  I  must  travel  it  alone.  Good-by,  my 
wife,  to  that  close  confidence  which  permitted  me  to  recount 
to  you  even  matters  the  most  harassing.  HONV  the  children 
ure  playing  over  the  house,  scampering  up  and  down.  Why 
not  ?  What  have  they  to  do  with  difficulties,  reverse  of 
fortune,  debt  and  embarrassment  ?  Their  time  is  not  yet. 
Even  Alice  does  not  appear  to  be  any  the  less  happy,  and 
she  is  really  almost  a  young  lady  grown.  Well,  if  I  can 
manage  to  live ;  why,  I  will  bless  GOD  for  that.  Even  to 
live  is  a  joy;  somebody  says  so.  [Somebody  not  in  debt, 
nor  in  extreme  bodily  pain.*]  A  nice  little  house,  a  steady 
occupation ;  charming  evenings  at  home.  Books — ah  !  I 
have  not  looked  often  enough  into  my  library.  I  will  brush 
up  my  classics,  revive  the  memory  of  college  years,  help  to 
educate  the  young  people,  and  let  the  noisy,  busy,  driving 
world  sweep  on.  And  I  repeated  to  myself  some  lines 
which  were  part  of  a  favorite  poem  : 

"Ambition's  lofty  views,  the  pomp  of  state, 
The  pride  of  wealth,  the  splendors  of  the  great, 
Stripped  of  their  mask,  their  cares  and  troubles  known, 
Are  visions  far  less  happy  than  thy  own.' 

*  Interlined  by  Mr.  PARKIXSOX  in  the  original  MS. 


112  TJND  E  RCTJKRENTS 

In  this  manner  I  endeavored  to  get  rid  of  the  unhappy  im 
pressions  produced  by  the  sheriff's  advertisement.  In  this 
manner  I  endeavored  to  reconcile  myself  to  what  I  saw 
must  come,  and  niake  the  most  out  of  a  new  situation.  And 
with  success.  I  was  not  only  cheerful,  but  I  did  much  to 
raise  my  wife's  courage,  which  I  perceived  (she  did  not) 
was  gradually  giving  way  under  these  repeated  trials,  while 
she  no  longer  enjoyed  that  firm,  elastic  health  which  is  so 
necessary  to  enable  us  to  cope  with  misfortune. 

We  have  to  encounter  the  inevitable  nature  of  things. 
Were  I  inditing  a  romance,  how  agreeable  it  would  be  to 
record  the  triumph  of  honest  dealing  over  trickery  and  fraud. 
How  easy  to  give  the  pleasing  particulars  of  the  defeat  of 
Bulldog  in  the  several  harassing  "cases  brought  against  me, 
and  the  utter  discomfiture  of  Goulding,  Screwtight  and 
Gripeall.  How  satisfactory,  as  in  the  old  fiction,  suddenly 
to  introduce  the  wand  of  the  magician,  one  wave  of  which 
should  demolish  all  my  enemies,  and  another  wave  restore 
me  to  position  and  wealth,  provide  for  the  happy  marriage 
of  my  daughter,  place  the  younger  children  on  the  same 
charming  road,  bring  again  the  bloom  of  health  to  the  check 
of  my  wife,  and  recreate  for  us  all  the  hoped-for  happiness 
of  life.  Thus  illustrating  those  pleasing,  and  by  no  means 
difficult  theories,  which  the  writer  of  a  novel  generally  feels 
bound  to  sustain. 

I  have  no  such  task  before  me.  I  fear,  indeed,  I  have  to 
wreary  the  reader  with  what  will  almost  seem  a  repetition 
of  untoward  circumstances. 

Not  to  go  into  any  further  minutiae  of  my  litigation  with 


OF      WALL- STREET.  113 

Bulldog,  I  will  observe  that,  after  a  while,  attending  to  it 
got  to  be  with  me  a  special  occupation.  In  fact,  in  one  way 
and  another,  it  kept  me  busy  nearly  all  the  time.  For  the 
creature  maintained  a  perpetual  round  of  perplexing  mo 
tions,  examinations,  etc.,  etc.,  while  I,  determined  that  the 
man  who  had  caused  my  financial  ruin  should  not  reap  any 
reward  from  it,  vigorously  resisted  every  fresh  attack,  and 
with  the  aid  of  my  counsel  generally  baffled  the  foe.  But 
how  dreadfully  damaging  were- even  my  victories:  how  de 
structive  the  contest  to  all  my  hopes.  The  advertisement 
of  the  house  by  the  sheriff  soon  attracted  the  notice  of  the 
real-estate  auctioneer,  the  one  who  was  attempting  to  sell  it 
for  us,  and  greatly  damped  his  energy  of  action  ;  for  James, 
who  was  thinking  seriously  of  making  the  purchase,  was  not 
willing,  he  said,  to  take  it,  if  there  was  any  dispute  about  it. 
He  did  not  wish  to  contract  for  a  law-suit.  Then  the  report 
was  busily  circulated  that  the  title  to  the  property  was  de 
fective  :  thus  it  acquired  a  bad  name,  and  my  hopes  of  a  sale 
were  daily  diminished.  At  last  I  found  the  only  course  was 
to  call  on  Mr.  Glynn,  and  request  him  to  foreclose  his  mort 
gage,  and  thus  put  every  question  at  rest. 

Meantime  I  began  to  make  preparations  for  quitting  our 
home  on  the  first  day  of  May.  We  resolved  to  go  far  "  up 
town,"  even  to  an  extreme  point,  where  a  small  house  could 
be  rented  for  a  moderate  sum.  Economy  was  the  great 
object. 

The  poor  are  entitled  to  commiseration,  and  sympathy 
and  assistance,  but  the  reduced  rich  require  much  the  larger 
share.  They  hide  themselves  in  misery  away  from  their 
former  intimates ;  they  are  oppressed  with  recollections  of 


H4  UNDERCURRENTS 

past  happiness,  and  with  apprehensions  of  the  future ;  the 
children  withdrawn  from  school,  the  daughters  portionless, 
yet  unfitted  to  earn  for  themselves ;  overtaken  by  destiny ; 
divorced  from  their  circumstances;  compelled  to  toil  without 
hope,  and  to  exist  without  aim ;  with  settled  habits  of  lux 
ury,  to  be  obliged  to  live  in  a  manner  the  most  meagre ; 
with  constitutions  adapted  by  long  use  to  comfortable 
modes  of  life  and  easy  living,  to  be  deprived  of  them,  and 
plunged  into  the  opposite  extreme.  Ah  !  reserve  some  por 
tion  of  your  sympathy  for  the  reduced  rich. 

In  one  of  my  excursions  house-hunting,  early  in  April,  I 
found  a  small  dwelling  which  I  thought  would  suffice  for 
us.  The  rent  was  three  hundred  and  fifty  dollars,  and  the 
neighborhood  not  disagreeable.  With  a  considerable  de 
gree  of  satisfaction  I  proceeded  homeward,  intending  to  ask 
my  wife  to  go  with  me  to  see  it.  When  I  arrived,  she  was 
not  in  the  parlor,  and  Alice  told  me  that  mamma,  not  feel 
ing  well,  had  gone  to  lie  down.  With  some  trepidation  I 
hastened  to  her  room. 


OF     WALL-STREET.  115 


CHAPTER    XV. 

i 

FLORENCE. 

THAT  sudden  awakening  to  the  truth— that  instantaneous 
perception  of  what  has  long  been  directly  under  our  notice 
unrevealed — the  veil  lifted — the  sight  quickened,  and  lo !  we 
stand  aghast  with  terror  at  the  discovery. 

We  think  we  can  bear  no  more  when  under  the  weight 
of  a  great  calamity  ;  but  we  can  bear  more  always  while  we 
live  (afterward  it  is  our  consolation  that  the  weary  are  at 
rest) ;  we  can  always  bear  more,  but  we  might  not  be  able  to 
sustain  too  great  a  load  of  anticipated  trouble.  Therefore 
I  conclude  this  occasional  dullness  of  vision,  this  absence  of 
apprehension,  to  be  a  wise  and  beneficent  provision  of  GOD'S 
providence.  But  the  time  comes.  We  pass  rapidly  through 
the  struggle,  and  then  accept  the  fresh  burden. 

31  y  wife  wras  lying  on  the  bed  when  I  entered  the  room. 
I  approached  her. 

"  Charles,  I  do  not  feel  as  wrell  as  usual." 

It  wras  enough.  For  now  regarding  her  with  solicitude, 
I  saw  what  I  wondered  I  had  not  perceived  before,  that  she 
was  much  changed.  Her  cough  sounded  sepulchral.  She 
said  her  side  pained  her  so  much  she  was  forced  to  lie 
down.  I  sat  on  the  side  of  the  bed  and  took  her  hand  with 
in  mine  and  gazed  in  her  face.  It  wras  the  most  unhappy 


116  UNDERCURRENTS 

.moment  of  my  life.  She  «aw  my  emotion  and  smiled. — 
"  Do  not  look  so  anxious,"  she  exclaimed.  "  It  is  only  a 
fresh  cold  I  took  last  evening  which  gives  me  this  pain ; 
otherwise  I  am  perfectly  well.  Now,  pray  do  not  be  fool 
ishly  anxious ;  you  will  make  me  imagine  myself  ill." 

I  rallied,  and  attempted  to  speak  cheerfully ;  but  pres 
ently  I  left  the  room  and  sent  for  Dr.  Chad  wick,  our  family 
physician.  He  came  promptly,  and  said  it  was  a  slight  at 
tack  of  pleurisy.  He  did  not  appear  alarmed,  made  the 
usual  prescriptions  and  went  away.  The  next  day  she  was 
better,  and  soon  she  was  able  to  leave  her  room  and  come 
to  the  table  as  usual.  But  my  attention  was  aroused.  I 
watched  my  wife  with  an  anxiety  that  I  cannot  describe.  I 
saw  that  her  cough  grew  more  harassing,  that  her  strength 
was  diminishing.  I  recalled  the  fact  that  her  mother  died 
of  consumption,  and  one  of  her  sisters  ;  although  till  now 
my  wife's  health  had  been  excellent,  and  she  had  never  ex 
hibited  the  least  tendency  to  this  insidious  malady.  Trouble 
had  brought  on  weariness  of  the  spirit,  and  the  enemy  had 
entered  by  the  weakest  side. 

I  began  to  pray  earnestly.  I  would  retire  away  by  my 
self  and  on  my  knees  implore  GOD  to  spare  my  wife's  life — 
only  her  life.  Strip  us  of  all  we  had ;  leave  us  utterly  des 
titute,  but  take  her  not  away.  Merciful  FATHER,  take  her 
not  away  from  us.  The  failure,  the  subsequent  misfortunes, 
the  vexations  and  miseries  which  followed,  what  were  these 
now  ?  Give  us  the  most  humble  home — the  meanest  abode; 
let  me  live  and  earn  her  support  by  day  labor,  but  let  her  live 
too.  Is  this  blow  to  be  added  to  what  has  come  on  me  ?  And 
I  strove,  agonizing — yes,  agonizing  in  prayer  to  GOD. 


OF      WALL-STREET.  117 

It  was  of  no  avail,  not  the  slightest.  I  called  on  our  cler 
gyman — a  good  man,  a  good,  pious  man,  I  believe — and  I 
begged  him  to  pray  for  the  recovery  of  my  wife.  I  know 
he  did  do  so  sincerely  and  earnestly,  for  he  was  impressed 
with  the  desperate  energy  of  my  appeal.  It  did  not  serve 
any  purpose.  Florence  was  worse  each  succeeding  unpleas 
ant  day,  and  she  did  not  rally  much  in  the  sunshine.  I  felt 
bitterly.  It  seemed  as  if  GOD  had  singled  me  out  to  vent 
His  vengeance  on.  Why  did  he  not  practise  on  that  hypo 
crite  Goulding  ? — on  Goulding,  who,  if  my  wife  died,  would 
be  really  her  murderer.  I  was  in  a  horrible  state  of  mind ; 
I  shudder  now  when  I  look  back  to  it. 

In  this  way  the  season  advanced  into  the  month  of  April. 
I  was  doing  every  thing  in  my  power  to  prepare  for  the 
first  day  of  May.  On  that  day  we  were  to  leave  our  house 
for  the  one  I  had  rented  "  up-town."  I  had  endeavored  to 
conceal  from  my  wife  that  I  entertained  any  apprehension 
with  regard  to  her  health.  The  physician  was  always 
cheerful.  I  essayed  once  or  twice  to  ask  him  his  opinion, 
but  the  words  died  on  my  lips  without  utterance.  My  bit 
terness  of  feeling  was  in  no  degree  softened,  indeed  I  think 
it  increased  daily.  I  had  discontinued  my  prayers  since  I 
saw  they  were  not  to  be  answered.  I  felt  as  if  I  did  not 
care  what  GOD  did  with  me,  now  that  the  gates  of  death 
were  to  close  on  Florence,  for  she  seemed,  since  she  became 
so  weak  and  delicate,  to  be  the  young  girl  I  had  wooed  in 
our  native  village  many  years  before.  A  tender  and  a 
youthful  expression  overspread  her  features.  Looking  at 
her,  I  would  ask  myself:  "  Is  this  the  promised  end  ?"  And 
I  would  go  aside,  not  to  pray,  but  to  shed  tears  of  anguish 


118  UNDEKCUBRENTS 

— tears  which  hardened  my  heart  instead  of  relieving  it, 
and  led  me  to  feel  that  I  was  ready  to  "  curse  GOD  and  die." 

All  the  while  I  attended  to  whatever  was  necessary  forme 
to  do — to  wit,  the  various  suits  of  Bulldog,  occasional  meet 
ings  with  our  assignee,  and  consultations  with  Mr.  Glynn  as 
to  the  foreclosure  of  the  premises  we  lived  on.  I  endeavored 
to  induce  him  to  purchase  the  house;  but  this  he  declined  to 
do,  not  wishing  more  property  in  real  estate.  He  consent 
ed,  however,  to  permit  the  house  to  be  rented  for  one  year, 
without  interference  on  the  part  of  the  purchaser  under  the 
mortgage,  and  would  also  accommodate  me  as  to  the  time 
of  sale  and  in  any  other  matter  which  should  not  impair  the 
security.  By  selling  under  the  mortgage,  all  possible  dis 
pute  as  to  title  would  be  removed,  since  a  deed  on  the  fore 
closure  would  dispose  of  any  question  under  the  sheriff's 
sale  by  Bulldog ;  at  the  same  time,  since  the  buyer  would 
know  that  the  property  must  come  to  the  hammer,  he  would 
not  be  likely  to  arrange  in  advance  for  its  purchase  at  a 
sum  certain,  preferring  to  attend  the  sale  and  bid  for  it. 

I  said  I  attended  to  my  necessary  business.  I  did  so 
mechanically,  without  the  slightest  interest  in  the  work.  I 
said  mechanically,  yet  with  that  species  of  energy  which  in 
difference  to  whatever  may  happen  always  produces  ;  with  a 
singular  forecast  and  shrewdness  too,  begotten  of  the  same 
cause.  I  Avas  moody,  it  is  true,  and  at  times  harsh,  but  I 
had  no  more  perturbations.  The  appearance  of  the  sheriff 
with  a  dozen  warrants  of  arrest,  or  the  placing  of  a  dozen 
keepers  inside  my  house  (except  it  might  come  to  the  knowl 
edge  of  Florence)  would  not  have  stirred  my  blood  to  an 
extra  pulsation.  I  took  a  species  of  grim  delight  in  encoun- 


OP      W  AL  L-STKE  ET.  119 

tering  Bulldog  and  sternly  looking  him  out  of  countenance. 
The  fellow  was  not  lacking  in  knowledge  of  human  nature. 
He  perceived  I  was  at  bay,  and  he  wisely  took  care  not  to 
expose  himself  unnecessarily.  He  kept  on,  nevertheless, 
with  the  steady  prosecution  of  his  various  suits  and  counter- 
suits,  but  he  no  longer  attempted  any  personal  annoyance. 
I  believe  I  have  stated  that  Goulding  was  an  elder  in  the 
church  we  were  in  the  habit  of  attending.  Indeed  our  pew 
was  directly  in  front  of  his.  Latterly  I  was  careful  to  be 
at  church  regularly,  that  I  might,  as  opportunity  occurred, 
catch  his  eye  and  disturb  him  by  my  contemptuous  expres 
sion.  I  would  sometimes  take  pains  to  stop  as  we  were 
leaving  the  church  and  speak  to  a  mutual  acquaintance  with 
whom  Goulding  was  already  conversing,  and  enjoy  his  re 
treat  on  my  coming  up.  Once  I  saw  him  going  into  the 
"lecture-room"  to  attend  the  Thursday  evening  prayer-meet 
ing,  and  I  followed  him  in  and  took  a  seat  beside  him — a 
front-seat,  such  as  he  loved  to  select.  Presently  he  was  called 
to  lead  in  prayer.  He  attempted  to  go  on  in  his  usual  glib 
and  unctuous  manner,  thanking  the  LOUD  for  all  His  mer 
cies,  and  following  with  a  recital  of  a  fearful  catalogue  of 
sins,  of  which  he  claimed  to  be  guilty  (had  he  been  accused 
of  committing  the  least  in  the  list,  he  would  have  resented 
it  with  fierce  indignation),  and  triumphantly  vindicating  his 
right  to  be  esteemed  before  his  MAKER  as  the  chief  of  sin 
ners.  I  perceived,  however,  that  Goulding  was  considera 
bly  embarrassed  by  my  presence.  It  was  evident  that  while 
he  was  praying,  some  peculiar  magnetic  relation  was  spring 
ing  up  between  him  and  the  man  seated  next  to  him — my 
self.  Ho  was  not  now  in  his  counting-room  dictating  terms 


120  UNDERCURRENTS 

which  should  cause  no  matter  what  amount  of  distress  and 
sorrow,  but  in  the  house  of  GOD,  where  his  role  was  to  be 
sanctimonious,  exhibiting  the  calm  serenity  of  a  Christian 
character:  dear,  wise,  good  Mr.  Goulding.  Now,  to  have 
the  man  he  was  so  wickedly  persecuting,  and  whom  he  was 
resolved  to  destroy,  present  at  an  exhibition  intended  for 
his  own  peculiar  audience  :  not  only  present,  but  evidently 
by  special  design,  in  close  proximity ;  a  critic  on  his  words 
and  sentences,  an  utter  disbeliever  in  their  sincerity ;  this 
had  the  effect,  as  I  have  said,  to  establish  between  Mr. 
Goulding  and  me  a  magnetic  relation  ;  and  in  so  doing,  dis 
placed  his  relations  with  the  listening  saints  around  the 
house.  Goulding  knew  I  was  saying  to  him  in  my  heart : 
''Hypocrite  !  who  devourest  widows'  houses,  and  for  a  pre 
tence  makestlong  prayers."  He  stammered,  he  became  con 
fused  ;  he  prayed  that  "  Satan  might  continue  to  have  do 
minion  over  us."  That  "  we  all  might  have  our  portion  in 
the  lake  which  burneth  with  everlasting  fire !"  The  audi 
ence,  though  solemnly  composed  to  worship,  began  to  prick 
up  their  ears ;  a  few  turned  their  heads  toward  their  elder, 
who  was  evidently  wrestling  in  prayer  and  apparently  getting 
the  worst  of  it.  Goulding  became  more  and  more  con 
fused,  plunged  from  one  bog  to  another,  until  he  was  forced 
to  wind  up  in  much  confusion  and  in  a  profuse  perspiration, 
before  he  had  completed  half  his  usual  performance.  For 
the  first  time  in  his  life  he  had  made  a  failure,  and  I  enjoyed 
his  discomfiture. 

I  have  no  doubt  the  reader  will  consider  this  either  a 
puerile  or  a  wicked  exhibition  of  my  nature.  Doubtless  it 
was  both.  But,  I  repeat,  my  design  is  to  give  a  literal  ac- 


OF      W  ALL-STKEET.  121 

count  of  what  occurred,  and  to  show  precisely  into  what  a 
state  of  mind  I  had  gradually  fallen. 

I  felt  ashamed — I  hardly  knew  why — as  I  went  home. 
Should  my  Avife  ask  me  where  I  had  been,  what  would  I 
say  ?  However,  with  the  satisfaction  I  enjoyed  in  witness 
ing  Goulding's  perturbation,  I  did  not  allow  that  to  disturb 
me  much. 

When  I  entered  the  parlor,  Florence  was  reclining  on  the 
sofa  quite  alone.  She  welcomed  me  as  I  came  in  with  un 
usual  tenderness. 

"  Will  you  hand  me  the  BIBLE  ?"  she  said. 

I  did  so. 

"  May  I  read  to  you  ?" 

"  Do." 

She  read  a  portion  of  the  address  of  the  ALMIGHTY  to 
Job,  commencing :  "  Who  is  this  that  darkeneth  counsel  by 
words  without  knowledge  ?"  When  she  had  finished,  she 
begged  me  to  sit  near  her.  She  took  my  hand,  held  it 
in  both  of  hers,  looked  anxiously  in  my  face,  and  said: 
"  Charles,  here  on  this  spot  and  at  this  time,  we  must  not, 
O  Charles  !  we  must  not  make  any  mistake.  It  cannot  be, 
with  loss  of  fortune,  of  home,  of  friends,  you  are  also  to 
lose  your  faith  in  GOD'S  goodness  and  justice  and  love. 
Then,  indeed,  all  is  lost.  I  have  regarded  you,  my  husband, 
of  late  with  trembling ;  I  have  watched  you  anxiously  until 
your  very  thoughts  are  clear  to  me.  In  what  you  have 
passed  through  I  have  been  unable  to  give  you  any  aid,  ex 
cept  the  little  my  sympathy  afforded.  Now,  it  seems  to 

me  that  I  shall  no  longer  be  useless  ;  now  I  can  endeavor 
6 


122  UNDERCURRENTS 

to  dispel  those  unnatural  thoughts  which  are  breeding 
around  your  heart,  which  will  produce  blight  and  gangrene 
and  death.  Oh  !  no,  no  !  You  shall  not  cast  off  your  only 
hope.  GOD  be  praised,  I  still  live  to  compel  you  to  come 
with  me  —  your  Florence.  You  will  not  hesitate.  You 
would  never  desert  me,  should  dangers  and  terrors  and 
death  threaten ;  you  will  not  desert  me  now  when  I  lead 
you  where  you  shall  find  peace  and  joy." 

My  wife  continued  to  plead  eloquently  that  I  would  dis 
miss  all  bitterness  of  feeling  and  not  permit  my  misfortunes 
to  pervert  my  moral  nature. 

I  heard  her  in  silence. 

There  is  a  wayward  element  within  our  bosoms  compel 
ling  us  to  hold  out  moodily  against  the  entreaties  and  prayers 
of  those  we  love.  It  is  a  portion  of  the  "  ancient  leaven" 
still  undigested,  which  has  for  its  essence,  "  I  am  the  spirit 
which  ever  resists"  It  has  wrecked  many  a  soul,  and 
grows  more  potent  where  apparently  there  is  least  opportu 
nity  or  reason  for  its  existence.  It  becomes  hardened  and 
obdurate  under  kindness,  like  flint  under  entreaty,  nursing 
itself  with  the  devil's  own  nutriment,  indifference  and  scorn. 

While  my  wife  was  addressing  me  so  tenderly  and  so  elo 
quently,  I  felt  this  spirit  gradually  taking  possession  of  me. 
I  was  quite  conscious  all  the  while,  but  it  was  the  conscious 
ness  of  one  oppressed  by  nightmare.  I  so  far  controlled 
myself  (strange  to  say),  as  to  resolve  while  I  was  exhibit- 
ino-  these  wicked  manifestations  of  the  evil  one,  that  I  would 

O 

yield  in  the  end.  But  to  do  this  became  harder  every  mo 
ment. 


OF      W  ALL-STKEET.  123 

At  last  Florence  paused,  discouraged,  despairing.  Clasp 
ing  her  hands  tightly  together,  she  sat  and  looked  at  mo 
mournfully.  Then  resistance  was  at  its  height ;  for  pres 
ently  I  saw  the  young  girl  who  had  stood  beside  me  in  the 
village  church  one  bright  June  morning  —  saw  only  her. 
The  moisture  gathered  in  my  eyes  ;  the  devil's  wand  was 
broken,  and  I  exclaimed :  "  Pshaw !  what  has  been  the  mat 
ter  with  me,  Florence ;  quite  beside  myself.  There,  I  am 
sane— sane!  GOD  bless  you,  Florence,  and  whatever  be 
falls  us,  let  His  name  be  praised." 

The  spell  was  dissolved,  the  gangrene  cut  out,  the  plague- 
spot  eradicated,  and  I  saved — saved,  it  is  true,  to  live  on 
under  intense  suffering  a  life  of  wretchedness ;  but  never 
forgetting  there  is  a  GOD  who  reigns,  and  never  distrusting 
His  wisdom  or  providence.  All  this  was  the  work  of  Flor 
ence — her  last  work,  her  last  loved  work. 


124  UNDERCURRENTS 


CHAPTER    XVI. 

PREPARATIONS. 

I  SUCCEEDED  in  renting  the  house  to  a  good  tenant  at  a 
fair  price,  with  the  consent  of  Mr.  Glynn  that  it  should  be 
sold  subject  to  the  rights  of  the  lessee  for  that  year.  This 
would  keep  the  interest  on  the  mortgage  paid,  and  leave 
something  toward  our  support. 

The  person  who  took  the  house  had  himself  failed  in 
business  three  years  previous,  and  was  my  debtor  for  about 
a  thousand  dollars.  He  had  made  a  respectable  compro 
mise,  and  I  had  been  among  the  first  to  sign  off.  His  affairs 
had  taken  a  successful  turn  ;  he  had  made  money  fast,  and 
was  now,  as  he  thought,  able  to  take  an  expensive  estab 
lishment. 

The  habits  of  our  countrymen  are  a  mystery  to  Europe 
ans.  Among  the  latter  exists  always  a  horror  of  coming 
to  want,  or,  as  the  French  express  it,  de  tombcr  en  misere. 
The  first  thought  is  to  provide  some  income,  be  it  ever  so 
small,  which  shall  be  certain  and  permanent.  They  look 
with  amazement  on  what  they  term  our  reckless  disregard 
of  the  future,  and  wonder  at  the  lavish  expenditure  of  per 
sons  who  have  no  receipts  beyond  what  they  earn  from 
year  to  year.  As  is  usual,  both  are  right,  both  wrong. 
There  is  not  in  this  country,  owing  to  the  innumerable  op 
portunities  for  getting  on,  based  on  its  fresh  and  varied  re- 


OF      WALL-STKEET.  125 

sources,  the  same  necessity  for  that  careful  and  provident 
provision  for  the  future  which  exists  in  the  old  world. 
Here  a  young  man,  well  educated  and  in  good  health,  and 
of  ordinary  capacity,  feels  no  need  of  capital  to  enable 
him  to  rise.  All  he  requires  is  honesty,  activity  and  per 
severance.  We  all  understand  this,  and  it  makes  us  less 
thoughtful  of  what  is  to  come.  Unfortunately,  it  does 
more:  it  makes  us  thoughtless,  and  too  often  reckless  in 
money  matters.  It  leads  to  various  extravagances,  which 
produce  strong  contrasts  from  year  to  year  in  the  fortunes 
of  our  ever-shifting  population.  But  there  is  a  salutary  re 
sult  .-it  the  bottom.  PROVIDENCE  makes  no  mistakes.  Al- 
thorgh  we  subject  ourselves  to  the  criticism  of  that  pru 
dent  philosophy  which  teaches 

"  A  FIX  a  day,  a  groat  a  year, 
A  penny  saved  is  two-pence  clear ;" 

still,  let  it  never  be  forgotten  that  the  sanguine  and  the 
restless  are  a  necessity  in  a  new  country,  and  indeed  are 
natural  products  of  the  soil.  It  is  the  sanguine  and  the 
restless  who  make  a  nation  great.  An  old  business  com 
munity  are  not  competent  critics  of  the  new.  While  Wall- 
street  would  not  be  content  with  the  slow  and  steady  gains 
of  'Change  Alley,  the  latter  regards  with  horror  the  pre 
carious  tenure  with  which  here  our  money-kings  hold  their 
wealth  and  sway. 

It  was,  therefore,  with  no  feeling  of  surprise  that  I  found 
Mr.  Williams  an  applicant  for  our  house;  nor  yet  with  any 
feeling  of  jealousy  or  chagrin.  We  both  had  had  our  strug 
gles,  and  were  about  to  change  places.  Something  more 
than  that,  to  be  sure,  since  I  was  not  in  the  favorable  posi- 


126  UNDERCURRENTS 

tion  of  being  freed  from  embarrassment.  As  it  was,  I  ex 
perienced  no  heart-burnings  nor  foolish  regrets.  It  was 
true  it  occurred  to  me  that  there  was  due  from  Williams 
over  three  hundred  dollars.  Ought  he  not  to  pay  it  ?  I 
had  released  him,  but  how  far  was  he  morally  bound  ?  This 
is  a  question  which  has  been  a  good  deal  mooted.  There 
are  those  theoretical  moralists  who  do  not  entertain  a  soli 
tary  practical  notion,  who  hold  that  a  man  is  bound  to  toil 
all  his  life  for  the  purpose  of  attempting  to  pay  a  legal  debt 
in  full.  Now,  I  admit  it  is  most  agreeable  to  be  able  to 
do  so ;  and  when  it  is  done  it  is  very  apt  to  be  heralded  by  a 
flourish  of  trumpets,  and  a  proclamation  of  how  the  honest 
man  has  paid  his  hundred  cents  on  the  dollar,  and  interest, 
although  he  had  been  released !  It  will  be  discovered,  I 
think,  on  investigation,  that  those  who  have  done  this  had 
an  abundance  left  after  making  payment.  Sometimes  this  "is 
done  out  of  policy,  often,  doubtless,  from  a  feeling  of  pride, 
and  often,  it  may  be,  from  a  conscientious  sense  of  duty. 
My  own  opinion  is,  that  when  in  the  chances  of  trade  losses 
honestly  occur  which  render  a  compromise  necessary,  this 
should  be  absolutely  as  well  as  legally  regarded  as  final. 
Every  merchant  in  his  time  releases  a  large  sum  to  his 
debtors,  and  in  the  long  run  things  are  pretty  equitably  bal 
anced.  I  do  not  believe  any  reader  of  mine  who  happened 
to  take  advantage  of  the  general  bankrupt  law  of  1841,  feels 
it  to  be  his  duty  to  have  toiled  laboriously  since  then  to  pay 
up  old  scores.  Neither  is  it  a  good  policy  in  affairs  that  he 
should  do  eo.  The  Hebrews  understood  this,  and  it  led 
them  to  provide  a  year  of  jubilee.  I  recollect,  some  years 
ago,  one  of  our  merchants,  whose  name  is  still  associated 


OP      WALL-STREET.  127 

with  all  that  is  upright  and  honorable  in  commercial  deal 
ing,  and  first  in  enterprises  of  benevolence,  was  said,  a  long 
time  after  his  failure,  to  have  paid  all  his  obligations  in  full 
Avith  interest.  He  was  an  acquaintance,  and  I  felt  suffici 
ently  intimate  with  him  to  ask  if  this  were  so,  and  I  learned 
that  he  had  a  partner  at  the  time,  and  subsequently,  after 
getting  again  into  successful  business,  had  paid  his  half  of 
the  general  indebtedness  in  full.  Really  he  was  not  only 
legally  but  morally  bound,  if  bound  at  all,  to  pay  the  whole  ; 
he  had  taken  one  of  many  views  of  the  subject,  and  it  does 
by  no  means  disturb  my  own  theory  of  the  hazards,  the 
philosophy  and  the  morals  of  trade. 

I  quickly  discarded,  therefore,  any  latent  idea  that  Mr. 
Williams,  because  he  was  now  doing  a  prosperous  business, 
ought  to  volunteer  payment  of  the  balance  of  his  old  debt. 
Practical  application  is  the  true  touchstone,  and  with  this  I 
felt  content  to  let  Mr.  Williams  pass  in  honor  "  scot  free."* 
The  lease  was  signed,  and  nothing  remained  but  for  him  to 
take  possession  on  the  first  of  May.  Mr.  Norwood  endeav 
ored  to  make  a  sale  of  my  wife's  furniture  to  him,  for  most 
of  it  would  be  inappropriate  in  our  new  abode  ;  but  in  this 
he  was  unsuccessful.  Mr.  Williams  had  already  consid 
erable  of  his  own,  and  for  the  rest  Mrs.  Williams  wished  to 

*  We  feel  bound  to  defer  in  a  measure  to  Mr.  PARKINSON'S  opinion  of  the  moral  or 
honorary  liability  on  a  discharged  debt,  in  view  of  his  large  experience,  and  the  atten 
tion  he  has  devoted  to  the  subject.  We  admit  it  is  presented  in  a  new  light,  and  con 
scientiously  presented.  l>ut  we  confess  it  disturbs  our  nerves  somewhat.  We  have 
been  accustomed  to  regard  business  obligations  as  always  binding,  and  the  act  of  grace 
by  an  indulgent  creditor  as  no  way  morally  releasing  the  debtor.  Perhaps  we  did  not 
sufficiently  take  into  account  the  fact  that  matters  of  trade  are  founded  on  conventional 
rules,  bavins:  for  their  basis  a  wise  and  liberalizing  policy. 

Asrain,  it'  free  pardon  obtains  under  Goo's  dispensation,  it  need  not  be  inconsistent 
with  man's  method.  It  is,  however,  a  question  for  the  conscionce  of  each  individual, 
and  thus  we  take  leave  of  it.— EDITOR  MEMOIKSJ. 


128  UNDERCURRENTS 

purchase  new  furniture.     The  carpets,  however,  he  would 
take. 

I  walked  up  and  down  over  the  house,  endeavoring  to 
ascertain  by  what  arrangement  of  certain  articles  in  our  new 
abode  I  could  preserve  a  semblance  of  our  old  home.  I  am 
not  only  greatly  attached  to  localities,  but  to  specific  things 
— a  chair,  a  table,  a  book-case,  for  example.  In  my  heart  is 
associated  with  such  objects  the  scenes  and  incidents  which 
have  occurred  during  their  occupation.  It  is  hard  to  part 
from  what  use  has  made  us  familiar  with ;  add  to  this  the 
thousand  little  occurrences  closely  connected  with  one's 
household  furniture.  Here  on  this  sofa  your  little  ones 
have  climbed  about  you  ;  every  piece  of  porcelain  reminds 
you  of  happy  scenes  around  the  table;  the  arm-chair — what 
a  history  in  the  arm-chair !  Are  these  not  all  friends,  mute, 
it  is  true,  but  pleasant  to  the  sight,  happy  in  the  memory — 
the  very  lares  and  penates  of  your  home  ?  Think  of  an 
auctioneer  rudely  taking  up  one  of  these  dear  objects,  ex 
hibiting  it  to  a  gaping  crowd,  and  urging  with  professional 
volubility  an  increase  of  oifers.  There,  he  has  seized  your 
wife's  pretty  sewing-chair — a  little  beauty,  a  birth-day  pres 
ent  when  expense  was  not  thought  of.  It  is  passed  around 
among  a  curious  crowd ;  various  remarks  are  elicited  ;  you 
can  hear  yourself  abused  for  your  extravagance.  Big,  coarse 
Mrs.  Easton,  who  weighs  two  hundred  and  forty  pounds, 
undertakes  to  sit  in  it,  and  is  vexed  because  the  chair  is 
too  small  for  her ;  for  by  her  own  account  she  was  crazy 
after  it.  Then  a  joke  is  perpetrated,  and  the  sale  goes 
on.  All  this  is  not  very  pleasant  to  a  sensitive  person, 
who  loves  to  cherish  his  associations,  and  who  makes  his 


OF      WALL-STREET.  129 

surroundings  dear  to  him  as  a  part  and  portion  of  his  daily 
life. 

My  reflections  were  something  after  this  sort  as  I  walked 
musingly  over  the  house.  I  did  not  call  Florence  into  the 
consultation.  Why?  I  did  not  dare  confess  why;  but  I 
found  myself  selecting  many  little  things  I  knew  were  no 
longer  of  use  to  her,  but  which  were  dear  to  me  because 
she  had  used  them. 

I  had  previously  consulted  with  Mr.  Norwood  as  to  what 
and  how  much  the  law  permitted  me  to  hold.*  I  had  read 
the  generous  list  prepared  by  our  law-makers,  including 
"  all  necessary  pork,  beef,  fish,  flour  and  vegetables  actually 
provided  for  family  use ;  and  necessary  fuel  for  the  use  of 
the  family  for  sixty  days,"  etc.,  etc.,  etc.,  and  which  con 
cludes  with  a  later  and  more  humane  provision,  exempting 

*To  that  portion  of  our  readers  who  reside  within  the  charmed  precincts  of  well- 
invested  wealth,  who  are  " gorgeously  apparelled,  and  live  delicately" — to  whom  the 
idea  of  a  restricted  want  would  be  a  novelty — we  present  a  curiosity  in  literature,  to 
wit:  an  extract  from  the  Statute  Book  of  the  State  of  New  York,  which  specifies  what 
property  is  exempt  from  levy  and  sale  under  execution.  Sincerely  do  we  hope  they 
will  never  be  forced  upon  a  more  intimate  knowledge  of  its  contents  than  the  bare  pe 
rusal  will  now  uli'oid.  It  will  be  seen  these  provisions  are  intended  to  favor  those  who 
dwell  in  the  country,  where  favor  is  less  needed  than  in  town.  A  poor  man  in  the  city 
of  New  York  would  lind  some  dilHculty  in  keeping  a  cow,  ten  sheep,  two  swine,  and 
the  necessary  food  for  them,  albeit  the  law  permits  him  to  do  so.  We  think  some  com 
pensation  should  be  provided  for  residents  of  cities,  by  way  of  additional  items  in  the 
exempt  list,  as  an  offset  to  these  indulgences  to  the  country. 

PROPERTY   EXEMPT   FROM   LEVY   AND   SALK    I'NDKK   EXECUTION. 

1.  "All  spinning-wheels,  weaving-looms  ami  stoves,  put  up  or  kept  for  use  in  any 
dwelling-house. 

2.  -The  family  BIBLE,  family  pictures  and  school-books,  used  by  or  in  the  family  of 
such  person,  and  books  not  exceeding  in  value  rifty  dollars,  which  are  kept  and  used  as 
a  part  of  family  library. 

:>.  "  A  seat  or  pew  occupied  by  such  person  or  his  family  in  any  house  or  place  of 
public  worship. 

4.  •'  All  sheep  to  the  number  of  ten,  with  their  fleeces,  and  the  yarn  or  cloth  manu 
factured  from  the  same;  one  cow,  two  swine ;  the  necessary  food  for  them  ;  all  neces 
sary  pork,  beef,  fish,  flour  and  vegetables  actually  provided  for  family  use ;  and  necessary 
fuel  for  the  use  of  the  family  for  sixty  days. 

6* 


130  UNDERCURRENTS 

"  in  addition"  one  hundred  and  fifty  dollars'  worth  of  ar 
ticles.  Whatever  should  be  the  result  of  the  litigation 
with  Bulldog,  I  had  a  right  to  certain  specific  things,  and 
this  certain  amount  in  value  in  furniture  besides.  With  what 
could  be  legally  held  by  my  wife  added  to  it,  our  small 
tenement  would  be  neatly  furnished.  All  the  furniture  I 
owned  and  had  assigned,  would  be  sold  at  auction,  together 
with  such  belonging  to  her  as  was  thought  inappropriate. 
Reluctantly  in  my  mind  I  yielded  this  and  that,  retaining  at 
the  same  time  that  and  this  by  some  such  process  of  associ 
ation  as  I  have  just  spoken  of.  Descending  again  to  the 
parlors,  I  caught  sight  of  my  wife  going  out  of  the  dining- 
room,  so  as  to  escape  to  her  own  apartment  without  obser 
vation.  I  knew  very  well  that  she  was  about  to  lie  down 
and  did  not  wish  to  attract  my  attention. 

I  received  a  letter  the  next  day  from  the  owner  of  the 
house  I  proposed  to  occupy.  It  was  courteous  in  terms,  but 
conveyed  to  me  his  decision,  that  he  should  require  security 
for  the  rent.  This  was  only  reasonable,  but  it  galled  me 
nevertheless.  I  whose  note  a  little  before  was  so  "un 
doubted  ;"  whose  paper  was  considered,  in  the  present  par 
lance  of  the  street,  "  gilt-edged  ;"  who  received  the  con 
gratulations  of  bank  officers  and  wealthy  financiers  for  my 

5.  "All  necessary  wearing  apparel,  beds,  bedsteads  and  bedding,  for  such  person  and 
his  family;  arms  and  accoutrements  required  by  law  to  be  kept  by  such  person; 
necessary  cooking  utensils;  one  table;  six  chairs;  six  knives  and  forks;  six  plates; 
six  tea-cups  and  saucers ;  one  sugar-dish;  one  milk-pot;  one  tea-pot  and  six  spoons; 
one  crane  and  its  appendages ;  one  pair  of  andirons  ;  and  a  shovel  and  tongs. 

6.  "The  tools  and  implements  of  any  mechanic  necessary  to  the  carrying  on  of  his 
trade,  not  exceeding  twenty-five  dollars  in  value.1' 

A  subsequent  section,  in  addition  to  the  above  articles,  exempts  "necessary  house 
hold  furniture,  working-tools  and  team  of  any  person  having  a  family  for  which  he 
provides,  to  the  value  of  not  exceeding  one  hundred  and  fifty  dollars." 


OF      WALL-STREET.  131 

eminent  success  in  affairs,  to  be  called  on  to  give  security 
for  three  hundred  and  fifty  dollars  !  That  was  only  eighty- 
seven  dollars  and  fifty  cents  per  quarter,  and  security  wanted. 
Well,  was  that  not  a  fair  indication  that  my  future  landlord, 
himself  a  shrewd  man,  taking  all  things  into  consideration, 
had  decided  that  tJie  chances  were  against  my  paying  him 
his  rent  f  Therefore  he  asked  security.  This  conclusion 
was  not  more  encouraging  to  my  hopes  than  the  demand 
itself  was  to  my  pride ;  but  it  was  idle  to  resent  it.  Neces 
sity  is  a  great  leveller.  If  I  was  to  have  a  roof  over  my 
head,  I  must  comply  with  the  conditions.  "  Beggars  must 
not  be  choosers." 

Who  would  "go"  my  security?  That  was  the  point. 
To  whom  could  I  apply  ?  Out  of  all  my  friends,  out  of  all 
those  dear  "five  hundred,"  who  had  enjoyed  the  hospitality 
of  my  house ;  who  had  begged  me  to  command  their  ser 
vices  on  any  and  every  occasion,  to  any  and  every  amount ; 
who  wrould  be  security  that  I  would  faithfully  pay  eighty- 
seven  dollars  and  fifty  cents  each  and  every  three  months 
for  the  space  of  one  year  ? 

Echo  answered,  "7F"Ao/" 

What  nonsense,  such  reflections  !  Those  friends  of  yours 
took  you  as  you  were.  No  clause  in  the  articles  provided 
for  your  bankruptcy ;  before,  it  was  fair  "  give  and  take," 
now  it  is  all  on  one  side.  You  might  command  them,  to  be 
sure,  but  they  expected  to  command  you  as  well. 

Once  more  I  had  recourse  to  my  counsel,  once  more  Mr. 
Norwood  proved  a  friend  in  need,  and  freely  became  my 
guarantee. 

The  lease  was  dulv  executed,  and  Mr.  Norwood  readily 


132  U  ND  E  K  C  U  E  RE  NTS 

accepted  as  surety.  The  rooms  were  measured  for  carpets, 
the  hall  for  oil-cloth,  and  various  orders  given  to  be  executed 
before  the  first  of  May.  Next  came  the  preparations  for 
the  auction.  The  day  fixed  was  the  twenty-seventh  of  April. 
The  auctioneers  were  the  well-known  house  of  A.  A.  Lee 
and  Company.  The  list  was  carefully  prepared  ;  the  re 
served  articles  selected ;  those  sold  to  Mr.  Williams  marked 
off,  and  a  correct  catalogue  printed.  Already  had  adver 
tisements  appeared  in  the  daily  papers,  of  the  magnificent 

sale  of  household  furniture  at  No. Broadway,  which 

should  take  place  on  the  twenty-seventh  day  of  April.  The 
description  was  in  the  best  style  of  Lee  and  Company,  and 
all  the  concomitants  worthy  the  name  and  fame  of  those 
accomplished  auctioneers.  A  few  more  days,  and  all  would 
be  going,  going,  gone  ! 


OP     WALL-STREET.  133 


CHAPTER    XVII. 


THERE  was  no  auction  at  our  house  on  the  twenty-seventh 
day  of  April.  No  moving  out  of  it  on  the  first  day  of  May. 
A  darkened  chamber,  a  woman  wearing  a  professional  air 
of  solemn  solicitude  near  the  bed,  careful  footsteps,  voices 
scarcely  above  a  whisper,  loving  countenances  mournful, 
despairing,  were  tokens  that  some  one  "  appointed  to  die" 
lay  on  that  couch,  and  that  the  time  drew  near. 

The  motions  and  counter-motions  with  Bulldog  were  no 
longer  pressed ;  adjournments  were  consented  to  without 
question ;  delay  granted  on  either  side.  For  in  that  hour 
none  were  so  hardy  as  not  to  acknowledge  and  pay  respect 
to  the  approach  of  the  destroyer. 

It  was  sudden  and  swift.  Another  fresh  cold  led  to  acute 
inflammation  of  the  lungs,  and  death  was  to  follow.  It  is 
not  my  design  to  attempt  to  portray  my  anguish  those  fe\v 
days,  nor  how,  watching  by  the  bed-side  of  my  wife,  I  beheld 
her  sink  and  die. 

There  are  some  of  you  who  know  what  it  is  to  hold  the 
hand  of  the  one  most  dear  to  you,  and  watch  the  feeblo 
pulse,  and  while  in  your  grasp  to  have  it  flutter  and  stop, 
It  is  a  fearful  moment,  first  filling  your  soul  with  awe  and 
terror  before  the  fountains  of  the  heart  can  be  loosed,  and 


134  U  NDE  K  C  U  KEE  NT  S 

grief  come  to  your  relief.     The  history  would  be  impressive, 
but  could  convey  no  new  impression. 

It  was  past  the  middle  of  the  afternoon,  on  the  third  of 
May ;  a  pleasant  day  wrch  warm  sunshine  and  a  balmy  at 
mosphere.  I  returned  to  my  wife's  chamber,  having  been 
absent  perhaps  a  half-hour.  She  asked  me  to  send  the  nurse 
down  stairs,  and  to  tell  Alice  to  leave  the  room  for  a  few 
moments.  My  heart  beat  violently,  for  I  knew  Florence 
designed  to  take  a  last  farewell.  I  did  as  she  desired,  and 
sat  down  by  her  side ;  it  was  the  last  scene  of  the  drama, 
commencing  with  that  pleasant  little  party  in  September, 
when — I  am  foolish  to  recall  it :  let  it  pass. 

"  Charles,  it  is  coming,  we  have  little  to  say  to  each  other, 
for  our  whole  life  has  been  rounded  from  day  to  day  by  love. 
I  leave  you;  I  leave  you  to  encounter  misery  and  degrada 
tion,  and  what  shall  seem  disgrace,  but  through  all  you  will 
preserve  your  integrity,  and  at  the  last  there  will  cornea 
season  of  repose.  GOD  permits  me  to  see  this,  and  to  tell 
you,  O  my  husband  !"  ."";; '  :'•'  .  After  a  pause  she  con 
tinued  :  "  I  have  one  request  to  make ;"  her  voice  trembled. 
"  Keep  them  together.  Keep  them  all  around  you.  Prom 
ise  me — you  will  not  separate." 

"  Never!  while  I  have  life,  never  !"  I  murmured.     .     . 

"Kiss  me:  call  the  children!" 

She  died  that  evening. 


OF      W  ALL-STREET.  135 


CHAPTER    XVIII. 

MOURNING. 

"  THE  dark  sail  shifts  from  side  to  side, 
The  boat  untrimmed  admits  the  tide , 
Borne  down,  adrift,  at  random  tost, 
Tke  oar  breaks  short,  the  rudder's  lost." 

I  NEED  not  tell  the  reader  how,  the  morning  after  my 
wife  died,  I  rose  with  a  feeling  of  utter  insensibility  and  in 
difference  to  all  that  was  transpiring.  It  seemed  as  if  the 
world  should  stop  in  its  daily  avocations,  and  I  could  not  re 
alize  that  its  machinery  was  in  motion  just  as  ever.  I  recol 
lect  going  into  the  hall,  and  mechanically  opening  the  street- 
door,  and  gazing  out  on  Broadway.  The  sun  shone  glar 
ingly.  Why  should  the  sun  shine  any  more  ?  Omnibuses 
and  carriages  of  every  description  rolled  noisily  along. 
Why  were  they  not  silent  ?  Business  men  were  hastening 
to  their  several  offices  and  counting-rooms.  How  useless  1 
People  of  various  conditions  would  stop  and  exchange  cheer 
ful  salutations  and  lively  pleasantries.  Did  they  know  she 
was  dead  ? 

So  entirely  do  we  color  and  shape  externals  out  of  our 
own  profound  egotism. 

This  period  is  generally  a  brief  one  in  the  experience  of 
the  mourner,  especially  if  we  be  forced  quickly  back  into 
the  current  from  which  we  were  withdrawn. 

After  the  funeral — we  buried   my  wife  in  Greenwood — 


136  UNDERCURRENTS 

my  thoughts  turned  by  necessity  to  my  children.  For  a 
time,  however,  I  found  it  impossible  to  summon  the  least 
energy  or  resolution.  My  situation  is  best  described  by  the 
lines  I  have  placed  at  the  head  of  this  chapter.  I  was  nerve 
less,  purposeless,  regardless  of  the  present,  and  without  the 
least  care  for  the  future. 

This  season  too  has  its  limits,  and  even  if,  unlike  my  own 
case,  we  are  not  roused  prematurely  by  stern  necessity,  the 
feelings  gradually  get  into  their  former  channels ;  the  world 
which  we  regarded  with  indifference  and  disgust  by  degrees 
presents  itself  wTith  the  old  charm,  and  we  find  ourselves  re 
turning  its  smile  and  friendly  greeting.  Soon  we  forget 
the  poignancy  of  that  grief  which  held  so  complete  control 
over  us ;  and  lo !  again  we  walk  abroad,  subdued  some 
what  by  our  sad  experience,  somewhat  more  timid  perhaps 
in  view  of  future  possibilities,  but  wedded  firmly  as  ever  to 
our  old  habits,  enjoying  our  old  delights,  eager  in  our  old 
pursuits. 

There  is  something  more  melancholy  in  the  transitory  na 
ture  of  our  mourning  than  in  the  affliction  which  causes  it. 
Deep  grief,  while  it  lasts,  lifts  us  above  all  earthly  consider 
ations,  and  we  feel  self-reproached  when  first  forced  to  admit 
any  returning  sensibility  with  regard  to  them.  Yes,  it  is  a 
melancholy  idea  that  we  must  come  back  after  accompany 
ing  the  loved  spirit  part  way  on  the  journey  heavenward. 

But  is  the  short  period  of  our  mourning  humiliating  to 
human  nature  ?  Does  it  indicate  that  it  is  capricious  and 
unreliable  ?  I  do  not  think  so.  It  would  be  impossible  to 
live  in  this  world  of  ours  and  carry  around  always  such 
sharp  grief.  We  may  indulge  in  a  tender  melancholy,  sof- 


O  F      AV  A  L  L  -  S  T  II  E  E  T  .  137 

tening  in  its  influences,  and  do  our  duty  manfully,  but  it  is 
providential  that  the  season  of  intense  sorrow  is  but  short. 

So  it  was  not  very  long  before  I  became  engaged  as  de 
terminedly  as  before,  resisting  or  attacking  Bulldog  and 
Company,  fully  resolved  that  if  I  were  wrecked  they  should 
not  benefit  by  the  disaster. 

Mr.  Williams  who  was  to  take  our  house  was  very  con 
siderate  of  our  situation.  While  my  wife  was  ill,  he  sent 
me  a  message  begging  me  not  to  have  the  least  concern  or 
solicitude  about  not  being  able  to  give  it  up  on  the  day. 
Mrs.  Williams  felt  that  a  few  weeks  at  a  hotel  would  be  an 
agreeable  change.  When  all  was  over,  he  called  to  condole 
with  me,  and  insisted  I  should  take  time  and  have  the  auc 
tion  on  the  premises,  just  as  I  had  previously  intended. 

I  now  attempted  to  address  myself  vigorously  to  the  task 
of  fitting  up  the  new  house,  and  arranging  for  the  sale 
of  furniture  in  the  old.  I  had  promised  Florence  not  to 
separate  myself  from  the  children.  Indeed  I  could  not 
have  done  so  if  the  pledge  had  not  been  given.  They  were 
now  to  be  my  only  solace ;  for  them  alone  I  now  was  to 
live  and  toil.  Alice  appeared  to  grow  suddenly  into  a 
woman ;  she  was  thoughtful,  tender,  sympathizing.  Some 
times  I  loved  to  believe  that  the  spirit  of  my  wife  had  com 
municated  to  her  that  maturity  of  feeling  which  was  now 
so  congenial  and  companionable.  Little  Charley  and  Anna 
were  yet  too  young  to  grieve.  They  cried  when  their 
mamma  was  carried  out  of  the  house;  they  knew  they 
would  not  see  her  any  more,  but  in  a  day  or  two  they  were 
playing  about  quite  as  usual. 


138  UNDERCURRENTS 


CHAPTER    XIX. 

THE      AUCTION. 

AGAIN,  in  the  daily  journals  appeared  the  advertisement 
of  Lee  and  Company,  announcing  the  "  splendid"  sale  of 
household  furniture  in  Broadway. 

I  was  subjected  to  not  a  little  annoyance  by  the  calling 
of  several  female  friends  to  ask  about  certain  articles  of  fur 
niture.  Each  was  desirous  to  have  some  trifling  memento 
of  their  dear  Mrs.  Parkinson.  One  fixed  on  a  centre-table, 
another  selected  a  fauteuil,  a  third  a  tea-set,  and  so  forth. 
Their  purpose  in  coming  was  to  inquire  if,  under  the  circum 
stances  (since  they  were  desirous  of  procuring  these  several 
objects  merely  as  souvenirs,  having  really  no  use  for  them 
whatever),  I  could  not  consent  that  they  should  take  them 
away  before  the  sale,  and  (delicately  put  in)  at  a  nominal 
price.  Mrs.  Amelia  Vanderheyden  assured  me  it  would 
give  poor  Mrs.  Parkinson,  could  she  but  know  it — and  per 
haps  she  would  know  it — so  much  satisfaction  to  have  that 
particular  piece  of  furniture  in  her  possession  ;  it  had  always 
been  a  favorite  with  her,  and  on  one  occasion  (and  she  wTas 
eloquently  minute  in  particularizing  when,  how  and  where) 
my  wife  had  actually  proposed  to  present  it  to  her,  but  she 
(Mrs.  V.)  was  really  ashamed  to  accept  it,  because  she  had 
just  been  praising  it  so. 

I  had  but  one  answer  to  give  to  these  disinterested  souls, 


OF      W  A  L  L  -S  T  K  E  E  T.  139 

and  that  was,  that  I  had  no  control  whatever  over  the  fur 
niture  or  the  sale.  I  must  refer  them  to  Mr.  Norwood. 
Whereat  I  was  subjected  to  certain  polite  but  distinct  in 
nuendoes  of  "  how  soon  husbands  were  apt  to  forget  their 
poor  wives'  requests,  and  slight  their  well-known  wishes." 

There  was  a  very  fine  grand-action  piano  among  the  articles 
to  be  sold  ;  the  same  instrument  on  which  Alice  was  playing 
when  the  news  arrived  of  the  protest  of  Wise  and  Com 
pany's  bills.  I  had  paid  only  the  year  before  nine  hundred 
and  fifty  dollars  for  it,  Mr.  Norwood  told  me  a  friend  of 
his  stood  ready  to  pay  six  hundred  dollars,  and  would  bid 
to  that  amount  if  it  was  thought  necessary  to  sell  it  at  auc 
tion,  which  he  decided  was  the  safe  course.  The  day  be 
fore  the  sale,  Mr.  Chandler,  a  merchant  who  claimed  to  hold 
me  in  very  high  esteem,  called,  and  in  a  very  condoling,  pat 
ronizing  tone  said  :  "  Mr.  Parkinson,  motives  of  delicacy 
will  prevent  my  attending  a  sale  which  is  the  breaking  up 
of  the  establishment  of  an  old  and  valued  friend ;  but,  to 
relieve  your  mind  about  a  pretty  expensive  article  which 
will  hardly  find  a  purchaser,  as  times  are,  I  will  say  I  have 
left  orders  with  a  person  to  bid  off  your  piano  at  four  hun 
dred  dollars. 

I  thanked  Mr.  Chandler  a  little  bluntly  perhaps,  but  gave 
no  information  that  he  would  probably  find  a  competitor  at 
the  sale. 

"  You  know,  Mr.  Parkinson,"  he  continued,  "pianos  are 
a  drug,  a  perfect  drug  ;  yours,  though  a  good  one,  would 
not  bring  over  two  hundred  dollars,  I  dare  say  ;  but  it  is 
worth  four  hundred,  and  I  give  you  my  word  I  shall  bid 
that  amount,  irrespective  of  competition.  [He  did  bid  up  to 


140  UNDERCURRENTS 

six  hundred  and  ten  dollars,  and  it  was  struck  off  to  Mr. 
Norwood's  friend  at  six  hundred  and  twenty,  much  to  the 
chagrin  of  Mrs.  Chandler,  who  had  vowed  she  would  have 
it.]  Again  I  thanked  this  delicate-minded  and  generous 
man,  and  shortly  after  he  took  his  leave. 

"  My  friend,"  said  Mr.  Norwood  to  me  the  evening  before 
the  sale,  "do  you  propose  to  be  at  the  auction  to-morrow?" 

"Certainly." 

"  I  shall  not  consent  to  it,"  he  replied.  "  The  children  of 
course  are  not  to  be  here,  you  are  all  ready  to  leave ;  the 
other  house  quite  prepared  ;  I  know  almost  as  much  about 
the  property  as  you  do.  I  will  be  present,  and  shall  not 
permit  too  great  a  sacrifice.  I  invite  myself  to  breakfast 
with  you  at  seven,"  he  continued,  "  and  I  invite  myself  to 
be  your  companion  and  escort  to  your  new  house." 

I  knew  how  much  there  was  disagreeable  in  store  for  me 
at  that  auction,  but  I  thought  I  might  be  of  service  there, 
and  I  had  decided  to  be  present.  I  was  easily  persuaded 
to  yield  to  my  friend's  advice,  since  he  went  on  to  descant 
upon  what  I  should  encounter. 

"  You  will  see  there,"  he  said,  "  every  lady  who  knew 
your  wife,  with  her  daughters  and  nieces  if  she  has  any, 
roaming  curiously  over  your  house,  and  into  every  nook  and 
corner.  Your  library  and  your  breakfast-room,  so  pleasant 
in  your  recollection,  will  be  invaded  by  Goths  and  Vandals. 
Women  who  make  it  a  business  to  attend  all  auctions  every 
where  over  the  city,  will  throng  the  halls  and  stairc;ises. 
Men  who  go  expressly  to  crowd  among  the  women  will 
help  to  add  to  the  confusion,  and " 


OF      WALL-STREET.  141 

"  Enough,"  I  exclaimed. 

The  small  house  up-town  had  been  neatly  but  very  inex 
pensively  furnished.  A  cheap  piano  was  purchased,  a  very 
good  one,  for  two  hundred  dollars.  Alice  had  herself 
superintended  the  arrangement  of  the  furniture.  She  dis 
played  extraordinary  energy,  and  I  found  myself  taking  an 
interest  in  every  thing  before  I  knew  it.  We  had  engaged 
a  good-natured,  serviceable  Irish  girl  to  do  "  general  house 
work."  We  were  to  have  no  other  servant.  Alice  could 
not  attend  school  any  longer,  but  Charley  and  Anna  were 
to  go  to  a  respectable  day-school.  Alice  and  I  had  planned 
it  together,  and  we  had  carefully  calculated  expenses. 

The  morning  came.  Mr.  Norwood  arrived,  and  we  sat 
down  to  our  last  breakfast  there.  It  was  eaten  rapidly  and 
in  silence.  Soon  the  carriage  and  baggage-wagon  were  be 
fore  the  door ;  what  remained  for  us  to  take,  was  speedily 
removed.  Mr.  Williams  had,  on  my  recommendation,  en 
gaged  our  man,  since  he  had  employed  none  before.  I  had 
procured  places  for  the  other  servants.  Nothing  more  re 
mained  for  us  to  do  in  our  handsome  house ;  we  stepped 
into  the  carriage,  the  wagon  followed,  and  we  were  soon 
entering  our  new  abode.  Then  Mr.  Norwood  shook  my 
hand,  and  praised  Alice,  and  said  a  pleasant  word  to  the 
children,  and  left  for  the  auction.  He  had  done  every  thing 
for  me — made  every  arrangement.  He  had  gone  carefully 
over  the  estimate  of  the  furniture  which  I  could  hold. 
Without  any  regard  to  the  replevin  suit,  he  had  made  such 
selections  from  my  wife's  furniture  as  we  thought  suitable, 
and  which  now  belonged  under  the  trust  to  the  children. 


142  UNDEECUERENTS 

He  had  taken  the  responsibility  of  the  sale,  and  was  fur 
nishing  the  necessary  funds  for  carrying  on  the  several  suits 
in  which  I  was  involved.  After  an  intimate  acquaintance 
of  fifteen  years,  he  proved  on  the  closest  trial  a  friend,  and 
I  pay  here  this  humble  tribute  to  his  memory. 

The  morning  passed  in  unpacking  and  arranging.  The 
day  stole  quietly  away.  The  children  appeared  just  as 
happy  in  the  new  house  as  in  the  old,  and  Alice  enjoyed  the 
satisfaction  of  making  all  comfortable  by  her  careful  over 
sight. 

I  did  not  quit  the  house  that  day,  and  it  was  not  till  late 
in  the  evening,  after  the  children  had  retired,  that  a  mourn 
ful  home-sickness  took  possession  of  me.  I  had  separated 
myself  from  my  social  life ;  a  necessary  act,  but  a  severe 
one.  I  felt  stricken  with  a  sense  of  desolation.  Presently 
something  seemed  to  whisper :  "Cease  your  foolish  repin- 
ings  and  regrets.  Pass  down .  into  that  class,  and  accept 
your  condition  /" 


END   OF  PART  FIRST. 


UNDERCURRENTS  OF  WALL-STREET. 


IP.A.RT    SECOND. 


"The  strawberry  grows  underneath  the  nettle; 
And  wholesome  berries  thrive  and  ripen  best 
Neighbour' d  by  fruit  of  baser  quality." 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE     LOCALITY. 

OK   the  front   of  Trinity  Church,   looking   down  Wall- 
street,  should  be  inscribed  in  large  letters  : 

"&i)*m]j  man's  fcjtalti)  is  ft  a  strong  tits/' 
"  ®t)t  instruction  of  tfrt  poor   is  tftct'r 


To  no  locality  on  the  habitable  globe  are  these  sentences 
more  applicable.  Every  transaction  relating  to  money,  from 
the  "  legitimate"  discounts  by  the  banks  out  of  the  offerings 
at  the  ordinary  meetings  of  the  board,  to  the  shaving  of  a 
fourth-class  piece  of  paper  at  the  rate  of  "a  quarter  of  a 
dollar  a  day  for  a  hundred  dollars"  (a  favorite  standard 
price,  and  a  favorite  way  of  putting  it,  as  less  calculated  to 
shock  the  nerves  than  plain,  blunt  "  quarter  per  cent,  a  day," 
which  by  the  way  is  only  ninety-one  per  cent,  per  annum,  or 
thereabouts)  ;  every  movement  of  the  stock-market,  every 


144  TJ  N  D  E  II  C  U  11  II  E  N  T  S 

transfer  of  property,  every  auction,  every  operation  by  the 
brokers,  whether  in  bonds,  bills,  -stocks,  goods  or  merchan 
dise,  but  confirms  the  fact  of  the  economical  advantages  of 
wealth  and  the  expensiveness  of  poverty. 

Our  sympathies  are  often  tried  by  the  recitals  of  harrow 
ing  tales  of  pauper  life,  or  of  the  miserable  beings  who  wear 
out  a  degraded  existence  in  mines  and  collieries,  and  shops 
and  factories.  Some  delight  to  picture  these  scenes  in  all 
their  horrors,  possibly  not  exaggerating  in  the  account ;  and 
many  of  our  popular  writers  have  entered  the  field  with 
success.  If  they  could  experience  ten  years  in  Wall-street 
they  would  dispose  of  their  present  stock  in  trade,  and 
eagerly  seize  on  this.  There  exist  in  that  street  those  who 
suffer  more  than  the  pauper,  and  the  men,  women  and  chil 
dren  in  the  mines  and  collieries,  and  shops  and  factories,  for 
they  have  sharper  sensibilities,  and  keener  appreciations, 
and  a  more  vivid  despair.  The  overworked  wretches  of  the 
manufactory  have,  it  is  true,  no  possible  chance  of  release, 
except  by  death.  Physically  they  sink  to  a  very  low  scale, 
worn  down  by  hard  labor,  bad  shelter,  and  a  stinted  diet. 
But  intellectually  there  has  been  no  descent,  and  ignorant 
as  they  are,  they  may  enjoy  the  consolations  of  religion,  and 
be  comforted  by  a  faith  which  affords  the  prospect  of  a 
happy  rest  hereafter.  But  the  Wall-street  "  operative"  has 
fallen  from  position  of  some  kind  into  his  awful  serfdom. 
Well  educated,  with  respectable  associations,  with  perhaps 
a  refined  and  interesting  family  at  home,  who  have  no  con 
ception  of  the  desperate  shifts  and  expedients  he  habitually 
employs  to  feed  and  clothe  them ;  tied  with  the  cord  neces 
sity  to  the  chariot  of  the  rich,  employed  to  gather  gold  for 


OF      WALL-STREET.  145 

them,  and  swell  their  triumphs ;  with  the  power  of  reflec 
tion  and  appreciation,  and  a  consciousness  too  :  his  condition 
is  infinitely  the  worst.  He  must  learn  all  the  tricks  of  the 
street ;  the  how  to  lie  and  cheat  and  swindle,  so  that  it  will 
not  legally  be  lying,  cheating  and  swindling.  He  knows  that 
he  is  degrading  his  nature,  yet  he  has  no  opportunity  to  stop 
even  for  one  moment  to  regard  himself.  He  sees  glimpses 
of  green  fields,  and  clear  skies,  and  a  pure  moral  atmos 
phere  away  yonder,  but  he  has  no  time  to  visit  them.  Per 
haps  at  last,  with  a  growing  sense  of  injustice  toward  him 
from  some  quarter,  he  becomes  desperate,  steps  over  the 
delicate  line  drawn  by  the  law  between  moral  and  legal 
crime,  and  is  sent  to  the  penitentiary  by  his  patrons,  whose 
dirty  work  he  has  done  so  long  ;  or,  his  moody  nature  taking 
another  direction,  he  commits  suicide,  and  is  reported  in  the 
morning  papers  with  the  comment,  "  no  assignable  cause  for 
the  commission  of  the  rash  act." 

There  is  another  class  equally,  nay,  more  entitled  to  our 
sympathies.  It  is  the  class  who  from  day  to  day,  and  week 
to  week,  and  month  to  month,  and  year  to  year,  labor  un 
ceasingly  for  money ;  who  think  of  nothing  else,  who  care 
for  nothing  else,  who  have  no  other  idea.  Whose  lives  out 
side  of  this  are  a  blank — are  idiocy.  To  hoard  up  cash,  to 
force  the  last  piece  of  coin  from  the  unfortunate,  to  calculate 
every  possibility,  to  press  every  advantage,  to  make  every 
sacrifice — for  gold !  The  miserable  individuals  first  de 
scribed  are  not  irredeemable,  for  they  have  not  lost  the  at 
tributes  of  humanity.  They  are  conscious  of  their  position, 
and  where  there  is  consciousness  there  is  hope.  But  these 
last  are  beyond  the  reach  of  every  human  influence,  and 


146  UNDERCURRENTS 

have  nothing  to  expect  in  the  future,  unless  it  be  n  "  fearful 
looking  forward  to  judgment."  But  I  must  not  anticipate. 

Wall-street  is  a  short  and  somewhat  irregular  avenue, 
leading  from  Broadway  to  the  East  River.  The  numbers 
of  the  buildings  reach  only  to  one  hundred  and  twenty. 
The  lower  part  is  devoted  to  houses  connected  with  the 
shipping  trade,  auctioneers,  cotton  and  merchandise- 
brokers  in  every  variety,  including  liquor-brokers,  wine- 
brokers,  segar-brokers,  and  so  forth.  As  we  advance  up 
the  street,  we  encounter  an  array  of  insurance  companies, 
fire  and  marine,  innumerable  lawyers'  offices,  and  an  occa 
sional  bank  or  banking-house ;  with  more  merchandise- 
brokers,  and  occasionally  a  shop  for  fruit,  cigars  and  confec 
tionery.  Approaching  William-street  we  enter  the  vortex, 
and  behold  a  palatial  array  of  banks,  more  insurance  com 
panies,  more  lawyers'  offices,  a  multitude  of  brokers'  sighs 
of  every  kind;  stock-brokers,  bill-brokers,  collection-brokers, 
money-brokers,  all  sorts  of  brokers,  from  the  leading  houses 
down  to  the  curbstone  "operator,"  known  as  the  "hyena,"  or 
"  Bohemian"  of  the  street,  and  now  crowded  out  of  Wall 
around  the  corner  along  William-street  to  Delmonico's. 

Approaching  Broadway  we  escape  in  a  degree  from  the 
oppressive  flurry,  and  find  again  something  of  the  commercial 
atmosphere,  mingling  with  that  of  money-bags,  stocks  and 
bank-bills.  At  the  top  of  the  street  we  encounter  Trinity 
Church,  with  its  magnificent  spire,  practically  announcing : 
"  Thus  far  shalt  thou  go,  and  no  farther" — in  this  direction ; 
a  striking  illustration  too  of  "  The  nearer  the  kirk,  the  far 
ther  frae  grace." 

But  we  can  do  no  justice  to  Wall-street  by  any  simple 


OF      WALL- STREET.  147 

grouping  or  attempt  at  concise  characterization.  Its  advan 
tages  for  a  universal  mart  are  incredible.  It  is  Lombard- 
street,  Threadneedle-street,  Old  Broad-street,  Wapping,  the 
Docks,  Thames-street  and  the  Inns  of  Court,  combined.  In 
it  is  the  Custom-House  as  well  as  the  Exchange.  It  is  a 
good  dog-market,  cow-market,  and  bird-market.  If  you 
want  a  pair  of  horses,  and  any  description  of  new  or  second 
hand  carriage,  wait  a  little  and  they  will  be  paraded  before 
you.  You  will  find  there  the  best  fruit,  and  the  finest  flow 
ers  in  their  season.  If  you  would  have  a  donkey,  a  Shetland 
pony,  a  Newfoundland  dog,  a  good  milch  cow  and  calf,  a 
Berkshire  pig,  a  terrier,  white  mice,  a  monkey  or  paroquets, 
they  are  to  be  had  in  Wall-street.  It  is  a  strange  spot. 
On  Sunday  or  early  in  the  morning  during  the  week  it  is 
like  the  street  of  a  deserted  city.  About  ten  o'clock  it  be 
gins  to  show  signs  of  extraordinary  animation.  Through 
the  day  the  turmoil  increases,  people  run  to  and  fro,  and 
literally  "stagger  like  drunken  men."  Toward  three  o'clock 
the  street  appears  undergoing  a  series  of  desperate  throes. 
Men  rush  madly  past  each  other  with  bank-books  in  their 
hands,  uncurrent  money,  notes,  drafts,  checks,  specie.  Oc 
casionally  you  may  see  an  individual  on  the  steps  of  a  build 
ing,  evidently  waiting  for  something,  with  an  air  of  forced 
calmness.  From  time  to  time  he  turns  his  eye  anxiously  to 
the  great  dial-plate  which  is  displayed  from  the  church,  and 
then  up  and  down  the  street.  The  minute-hand  has  worked 
five  into  the  last  quarter.  In  ten  more  minutes  it  will  be 
three  o'clock.  Occasionally  an  acquaintance  passes  ;  the 
man  attempts  as  he  bows  to  smile  pleasantly ;  he  can't  do 
it,  he  only  makes  a  grimace.  What  is  he  waiting  for? 


148  UNDEKCTJBKESTTS 

That  individual  has  a  note  to  pay,  or  a  check  to  make  good 
before  three.  He  has  worked  hard,  but  the  fates  have  been 
against  him.  One  friend  is  out  of  town,  a  second  is  short, 
the  third  can't  use  his  paper :  he  has  sent  to  the  last  possible 
place.  Look  !  the  young  man  is  coming.  Yes  ?  No  ?  He 
runs  eagerly  up,  thrusts  the  welcome  little  slip,  a  check  for 
the  desired  amount,  into  the  hands  of  the  now  agitated 
principal ;  it  is  rapidly  endorsed,  and  on  flies  the  youth  to 
the  bank. 

Our  hero  relieved — he  has  probably  borrowed  the  money 
for  a  day  only,  and  has  to  renew  the  attack  the  next  morn 
ing — now  prepares  to  leave  his  office,  he  lights  a  cigar,  in 
vites  the  first  friend  he  meets  to  take  a  drink  with  him,  and 
strolls  leisurely  up  Broadway  as  unconcernedly  as  if  he  had 
not  a  care  in  the  world.  Perhaps  he  does  not  come  off  so 
luckily ;  perhaps  his  young  man  reports  to  him,  while  stand 
ing  gloomily  on  the  steps,  that  it  is  "no  go ;"  then  the  fatal 
hand  which  points  toward  three,  travels  fast.  He  considers 
a  moment ;  he  sees  it  can't  be  done ;  he  waits  till  he  hears 
the  chimes  ring  out  the  full  hour,  and  then  his  "mind  is 
easy."  Your  shrewd  money-lender  understands  this  per 
fectly.  He  knows  how  unsafe  it  is  to  let  his  victim  pass  the 
point  unrelieved ;  for,  once  having  gone  to  protest,  he  be 
comes  demoralized,  and  in  consequence  indifferent.  So,  just 
before  the  hour,  the  money  is  generally  "  found." 

I  find  I  have  unconsciously  departed  from  my  proposed 
plan,  which  is,  to  allow  the  reader  to  become  acquainted 
with  the  particulars  of  Wall-street  life,  by  what  he  can  learn 
of  it  from  my  personal  history.  This  I  will  now  resume, 
and  ask  pardon  for  the  digression. 


OF      WALL-STREET.  149 


CHAPTER   II. 

PERSONAL. 

I  HAD  buried  my  wife,  and  removed  with  my  three  chil 
dren  up-town,  and  settled  into  a  cheap  habit  of  living.  I 
had  no  credit  at  the  grocer's,  nor  with  the  baker,  butcher 
or  milk-man.  I  did  not  .ask  any.  I  was  known  only  as  an 
elderly  gentleman,  who  bought  very  sparingly,  and  paid 
away  his  money  as  if  he  had  but  little  of  it.  My  daughter 
Alice  and  I  understood  each  other  perfectly.  She  was  my 
only  companion — for  while  the  two  younger  children  were 
a  great  solace  and  happiness,  they  were  not  old  enough  for 
society  for  me. 

When  you  undertake,  reader,  to  pay  as  you  go,  and  never 
to  purchase  a  penny's  worth  on  credit,  you  will  become 
economical  in  spite  of  yourself.  Carefully  indeed  did  I  dis 
pense  the  little  sum  which  still  remained  to  me,  and  which 
with  the  most  careful  husbanding  of  resources,  grew  omi 
nously  less. 

The  time  had  arrived  when  I  must  decide  what  to  under 
take  for  a  living — how  to  support  my  children.  I  have  re 
ferred  to  the  influence  of  family  connection  under  such  cir 
cumstances  to  sustain  a  broken-down  man  of  business  and 
provide  him  a  means  of  support.  There  was  no  one  to  raise 
a  finger  for  me.  "  Well,"  I  exclaimed  to  myself,  walking 
up  and  down  the  little  parlor,  "  is  there  really  any  thing  left 


150  TJNDEK  CU  REENTS 

of  you  ?  House  and  home  and  fortune  gone.  O  Parkin 
son  !  you  are  a  poor  devil,  with  nobody  to  get  up  an  insur 
ance  company  for  you  to  be  the  president  of.  Let  me  see  ; 
without  a  fine  house,  a  fine  carriage,  fine  horses  and  money, 
what  do  you  amount  to  ?  That's  the  question.  You  have 
lived  and  worked  hard  many  years,  and  failed.  What  have 
you  to  show  for  it  ?  Lawrence,  your  classmate,  is  not  worth 
a  dollar  in  the  world ;  yet  what  consideration  he  commands. 
He  has  done  something.  What  have  you  done  besides  sell 
ing  goods  and  looking  carefully  to  the  main  chance  ?" 

"  Well,  what  is  the  cause  of  this  heart-ache  ?  Is  it  in 
consequence  of  living  more  meanly,  faring  on  poorer  food, 
keeping  up  no  establishment  ?  True,  this  may  cause  certain 
others  to  regard  you  in  a  different  light,  but  why  should 
you  deem  yourself  thereby  insignificant?  If  really,  O 
Parkinson !  your  position  was  all  there  was  of  you,  and  in 
leaving  it  you  became  per  se  a  nobody,  having  in  times  past 
done  nothing  and  achieved  nothing  to  entitle  you  to  self- 
recognition  and  to  recognition  from  the  world,  beyond  the 
disbursing  of  so  much  money  per  annum — but  is  it  so  ?" — 
Then  returned  the  question,  what  had  I  really  done  beyond 
selling  goods,  etc.  ?  Do  we  inquire,  I  asked  myself,  if  cer 
tain  persons  who  fill  prominent  places  of  honor  and  trust 
fulness  are  rich  or  not  ?  Yet,  to  become  rich  had  been  too 
much  the  question  with  me. 

How  had  I  neglected  my  life ! 

The  great  thing  now  was,  not  to  lose  my  self-respect ;  not 
to  seem  contemptible  in  my  own  eyes.  Had  I  not  the  same 
brain,  and  heart,  and  soul  as  ever?  Were  I  dismissed  from 


OF      WALL-STREET.  151 

this  world,  these  alone  would  stead  me.  Standing  on  the 
other  side  of  the  river,  I  was  perhaps  superior  to  Russell. 
Xow,  then,  could  I  endure  until  the  appointed  time  ? 

Merchants,  business  men  of  New  York,  'hearken !  I  do 
not  accuse  you  of  loving  money  too  well,  of  being  avari 
cious,  covetous,  miserly  or  grasping,  but  you  devote  your 
entire  energies  too  much  to  your  occupation.  You  make  it 
the  end  and  aim  of  your  life  instead  of  a  means  to  comfort 
and  happiness.  You  work  too  hard  ;  you  enjoy  too  little ; 
you  lose  yourself  in  your  employment.  You  rise  early, 
breakfast ;  taking  time  scarcely  to  greet  your  children,  you 
hasten  to  your  place  of  business.  Perhaps  you  only  return 
in  the  evening  after  the  little  ones  have  gone  to  rest ;  or  if 
to  a  late  dinner,  it  amounts  to  the  same  thing.  You  manage 
to  read  the  newspapers  going  and  returning,  and  you  read 
nothing  else.  On  Sunday  you  endure  a  wretched,  dyspep 
tic  day  ;  mind  and  body  suddenly  and  entirely  relaxed,  the 
reaction  is  too  great ;  you  do  not  know  what  to  do.  You 
attend  church  ;  you  stroll  home ;  you  yawn,  smoke  a  cigar, 
make  a  call ;  play  a  little  with  the  children,  who  are  not 
more  than  half  acquainted  with  you,  and  go  to  bed.  You 
rise  next  morning  and  find  it  "  blue  Monday,"  and  it  takes 
you  till  Tuesday  to  get  right.  Why?  Because  you  so 
overtask  yourself  that  a  day's  relaxation  makes  you  sick ! 
Perhaps  you  accumulate  a  fortune,  and  you  feel  that  you  are 
entitled  to  repose  and  relaxation,  but  you  dare  not  retire 
from  business  for  fear  you  will  become  imbecile  or  lunatic! 
and  your  fears  are  well  grounded.  You  have  so  fitted  your 
self  into  the  harness  that  you  can  never  get  out  of  it.  You 
are  worse  off  than  a  poor  man,  for  he  is  permitted  to  pre- 


152  UNDE  K  CURRE  NTS 

serve  his  faculty  for  enjoyment,  while  you  lose  yours.  Your 
children  grow  up,  marry  and  leave  you  alone — all !  how 
terribly  alone. 

Can't  you  change  all  this  ?  I  am  not  going  to  preach  a 
sermon.  But  really  it  is  a  pitiable  object  to  behold  a  man 
twist  himself  into  a  deformity.  We  read  of  prisoners  so 
long  confined  in  one  position  that  the  limbs  refuse  to  do 
their  office  when  they  are  set  at  liberty.  So  with  you,  who 
have  no  other  thought  but  to  merely  buy  and  sell.  Suppose 
you  attempt  to  become  interested  in  what  is  going  on  at 
home.  Cultivate  your  children's  affections,  and  thus  en 
large  your  own.  Then  you  will  cease  to  be  absent-minded 
or  preoccupied  while  you  caress  them ;  then  you  will  get 
rid  of  that  nervous  irritability  which  will  not  permit  you  to 
sit  quietly  half  an  hour  with  your  family,  because  the  time 
is  up  for  you  to  be  off,  although  you  know  your  presence  is 
not  required  at  your  place  of  business.  In  short,  do  not 
work  so  hard,  but  apply  more  intellect  to  what  you  do  un 
dertake.  Recollect,  nearly  half  that  you  do  is  done  wrong 
or  injudiciously  by  being  done  with  too  little  reflection  and 
too  much  precipitation.  Think  what  a  large  portion  of  your 
time  is  spent  in  repairing  damages,  or  in  undoing  what  you 
have  begun.  So  you  cannot  lose  by  following  my  advice ; 
on  the  contrary,  you  are  sure  to  be  the  gainer.  Therefore, 
I  say,  take  time  to  enjoy — I  repeat,  enjoy  all  you  can;  some 
thing  of  nature,  the  green  of  the  meadow,  the  majesty  of 
the  full  flowing  river,  the  forest  and  the  mountain ;  some 
thing  of  art — a  picture,  a  statue,  a  fine  building,  an  engrav 
ing;  something  of  society — lay  hold  of  persons  who  are 
genial,  and  create  a  world  of  pleasant  intercourse,  in  which 


OF      W  ALL-STKE  ET.  153 

no  taskmaster  shall  enter  nor  intermeddle  ;  at  all  events,  for 
HEAVEN'S  sake,  make  some  effort  to  get  out  of  the  rut  you 
are  in  at  present.  Do  not  look  down  as  you  walk  along, 
but  look  up.  How  long  is  it  since  you  have  actually  re 
garded  the  sky,  the  sun,  moon  and  stars  ?  Observe  them 
now,  and  get  back  if  you  can  some  of  your  youth's  romance. 
Or  at  the  least  let  your  eye  rest  on  a  church  spire,  or  the 
fagade  of  some  fine  building ;  or,  failing  that,  look  at  the 
horses  and  carriages  which  fill  the  streets — do.  If  at  last 
you  fail  in  business — and  you  know  what  are  the  mathemati 
cal  chances  against  your  ultimate  success — you  have  not  lost 
all  you  are  worth ;  on  the  contrary,  you  will  be  worth  more 
than  you  have  lost.  There  cannot  exist  a  more  unhappy 
spectacle  than  a  man  who  has  devoted  his  very  life  to  "busi 
ness,"  and  who  fails  or  "  retires"  toward  the  close  of  his  ca 
reer.  Whether  you  are  to  fail  or  to  retire,  keep  yourself  from 
becoming  a  hideous  ossification !  These  observations  are 
the  result  of  my  reflections  that  morning  as  I  paced  up  and 
down  the  little  parlor,  while  I  subjected  myself  to  a  search 
ing  analysis.  That  analysis  was  not  altogether  discouraging. 
In  short,  I  felt  that  I  was  something  outside  of  my  occupa 
tions — not  what  I  should  have  been,  but  still  something ; 
and  then  I  discovered  that  so  far  as  one  has  the  faculty  to 
enjoy  what  is  daily  presented  so  far  one  is  rich. 
7* 


154  UNDERCURRENTS 


CHAPTER    III. 

WHAT     IS     TO     BE     DONE? 

FOR  two  or  three  months  I  occupied  myself  in  looking 
about  me,  endeavoring  to  hit  on  some  means  of  supporting 
my  family.  Once  in  my  life  I  recollected,  in  the  course  of  a 
conversation,  kindly  criticising  an  acquaintance,  who  was 
leading  apparently  an  idle  life,  while  he  remained  quite  de 
pendent  on  some  relations,  when  his  health  appeared  good, 
and  he  was  withal  very  competent.  His  answer  I  never 
forgot,  and  it  came  home  to  me  with  much  force.  "  Mr. 
Parkinson,"  said  he,  "  I  am  neither  indolent,  nor,  I  think,  in 
efficient  ;  but  I  am  used  up  after  I  have  passed  the  prime 
of  life.  GOD  grant  you  may  never  know  by  experience  the 
difficulty  of  getting  any  thing  to  do,  which  you  can  do  at 
my  age  and  in  my  circumstances.  I  am  an  experienced 
merchant,  but  no  young  man  who  is  a  principal  in  business 
wants  to  pay  me  for  my  advice.  Faith,  no  young  man 
would  relish  my  advice  anyhow.  As  to  a  clerkship,  people 
prefer  younger  persons,  and  very  properly.  I  am  not  suit 
able  for  a  book-keeper,  nor  active  enough  for  a  salesman, 
nor  strong  enough  for  a  porter.  I  am  not  on  the  right  side 
of  politics  for  a  place  in  the  Custom-House,  and  my  friends 
cannot  afford  to  make  an  employment  for  me." 

I  asked  the  man's  pardon,  and  I  felt  now  as  if  I  wanted 
to  go  to  him  and  ask  it  a  second  time.  Carefully  I  surveyed 


OF      W  ALL-STKEET.  165 

the  ground.     It  was   that    of  the   unfortunate   individual 
whose  experience  had  preceded  mine. 

"  What  can  I  do  ?" 

It  happened  that  one  of  my  mercantile  acquaintances, 
with  whom  I  had  always  been  on  agreeable  terms,  advised 
me  to  see  what  I  could  accomplish  as  a  note-broker.  At 
that  time  the  present  system  of  large  offices,  where  a  capi 
talist  can  go  and  select  such  notes  as  may  please  him,  had 
not  been  organized.  But  one  house  of  the  kind  was  then  in 
existence.  There  was  much  more  favoritism  at  the  banks 
than  now ;  in  short,  those  who  will  look  back  to  eighteen 
hundred  and  forty-eight  will  recognize  an  entire  revolution 
in  money  transactions,  and  in  doing  business  generally  since 
then.  At  that  time  there  was  much  less  capital,  and,  con 
sequently,  much  more  credit  in  proportion.  My  adviser 
urged,  that,  with  my  experience  of  the  various  firms  in  the 
city,  and  with  the  kind  feeling  entertained  toward  me  by 
the  two  banks  where  I  had  kept  my  account,  I  should  have 
no  difficulty  in  earning,  by  way  of  commission,  what  would 
make  us  at  least  comfortable.  Besides,  I  might  also  take  up 
various  negotiations  as  occasion  presented.  I  had  myself 
thought  of  this  plan,  and  on  conversing  with  Mr.  Norwood, 
I  found  he  did  not  oppose  it.  I  next  undertook  to  ascertain 
what  I  might  reasonably  expect  from  the  banks.  At  the 
Bank  of  the  World,  notwithstanding  my  experience  of  what 
a  change  of  fortune  would  produce  in  the  demeanor  of 
people,  I  was  perfectly  taken  aback  by  the  extraordinary 
treatment  of  the  president. 

He  was  seated  in  his  private  room,  giving  directions  to 
one  of  the  book-keepers  as  I  entered.     He  did  not  appear  to 


156  UNDERCURRENTS 

notice  me  when  I  came  in,  so  I  remained  standing  while  be 
talked  to  the  clerk.  After  a  while  he  was  through  ;  there 
upon  he  raised  his  eyes,  and  looked  at  me  much  as  he  would 
at  an  apple-woman.  "  Good  morning  !"  was  all  he  said. 
Whereupon  I  sat  down,  and  was  commencing  to  tell  him 
what  I  called  for. 

"  I  say,  Willard,"  calling  back  the  clerk,  who  was  just  out 
side  the  door.  The  man  returned,  and  received  another 
direction,  and  went  away.  Then  Mr.  President  took  up  a 
piece  of  paper  with  some  figures  on  it,  and  exclaimed,  while 
he  regarded  it  attentively :  "  Go  on,  Mr.  Parkinson,  I  can 
hear  just  as  well."  I  had  only  begun  again  when  in  stepped 
a  customer,  a  favorite  customer,  who  whispered  a  word  to 
the  president,  produced  two  pieces  of  paper,  on  both  of 
which  the  latter  placed  a  small  mark  in  pencil,  and  he  was 
off.  I  attempted  to  continue,  when  in  came  the  cashier, 
who  had  other  questions  to  put.  Not  the  least  notice  was 
taken  of  me  meanwhile,  and  shortly  he  concluded.  After 
that  another  acquaintance  came  in,  and  claimed  attention. 
Each  time  I  had  opportunity  to  utter  only  half  a  sentence 
before  I  was  interrupted.  But  it  was  not  the  interruptions ; 
it  was  the  contemptuous,  supercilious  manner  toward  me  of 
this  man  in  power,  who  evidently  regarded  me  as  wholly 
and  absolutely  insignificant.  Twice  I  determined  to  walk 
out,  and  abandon  the  whole  business,  but  I  gulped  down  my 
pride,  and  managed  by  degrees  to  communicate  what  I  had 
to  say. 

"  Really,  Mr.  Parkinson,  the  bank  can  give  no  assurances 
to  you ;  our  regular  customers  take  up  all  we  have  at 
•^resent." 


OF      WALL- STREET.  ]57 

Just  then  I  saw  a  well-known  broker  at  the  door,  whom 
I  knew  did  not  keep  an  account  with  the  Bank  of  the 
World,  but  between  whom  and  the  president  pretty  large 
operations  were  always  going  on. 

"Walk  in,  Mr.  Breeze,"  with  a  pleasant  tone.  "That's 
all  I  can  say  to  you,  Mr.  Parkinson,"  with  an  air  of  con 
temptuous  indifference. 

I  left  the  bank,  boiling  over  with — what  ?  not  rage,  nor 
hatred,  nor  envy,  nor  malice,  nor  chagrin  alone,  but  with  all 
these  and  every  other  wicked  passion  combined  and  con 
centrated.  I  ground  my  teeth  savagely  together.  At  that 
moment  I  could  have  turned  burglar,  and  robbed  the  bank's 
vaults,  or  set  fire  to  the  building,  or  throttled  the  officers. 
Desperate  violence  was  in  my  heart :  what  aroused  it  ? 
Not  the  president's  refusal  to  do  business  with  me :  that 
might  have  disappointed  me,  but  nothing  more. 

"  The  sting  of  contempt,"  says  the  proverb,  "  will  pene 
trate  the  back  of  a  tortoise :"  it  was  his  insulting  way  of 
regarding  me  as  beneath  the  slightest  consideration,  and  as 
utterly  insignificant,  which  cut  me  to  the  quick,  and  aroused 
passions  and  emotions  I  never  before  experienced.  Tears 
of  vexation  actually  filled  my  eyes  when  I  thought  how 
powerless  I  was  to  resent  this  despicable  slight. 

A  very  few  minutes  served  to  dissipate  the  force  of  the 
storm  which  was  raging  within.  Soon  it  gave  way  to  calmer 
feelings.  Then  I  took  a  necessary,  I  may  say  a  compulsory 
view  of  the  matter,  and  while  I  still  smarted  under  a  keen 
sense  of  the  man's  treatment,  I  began  to  see  how  foolish  it 
was  to  permit  myself  to  become  so  disturbed  by  it.  Indeed 
I  could  not  but  remember  how  I  myself  had  formerly 


158  UNDERCURRENTS 

stepped  into  this  very  private  office  as  a  privileged  person, 
and  found  some  poor  fellow  waiting,  humble  and  obsequi 
ous,  whose  interview  I  interrupted  until  my  business  was 
disposed  of.  Had  I  not  left  the  bank  on  such  occasions  in  a 
complacent  mood,  caused  by  the  ready  attention  which  my 
requests  commanded  from  this  same  president  ?  But  why 
could  he  not  have  received  me  with  at  least  a  show  of 
courtesy  and  declined  my  request  in  a  civil  manner  ? 

The  arrogant,  self-sufficient  tone  and  bearing  assumed  by 
so  many  who  have  control  of  capital,  do  much  toward  en 
gendering  hatred,  bitterness,  and  often  crime.  It  is  this 
which  helps  to  create  radicals  in  society,  which  leads  to 
the  promulgation  of  doctrines  that  make  the  rich  man  turn 
pale  sometimes  as  he  hears  audacious  avowals  from  noisy, 
turbulent  men,  no  respecters  of  his  position,  who  talk  of 
"  equal  distribution  of  property,"  "  the  right  of  every  one 
to  a  home,"  and  who  openly  denounce  the  abominations  of 
a  system  which  makes  the  "  rich  richer,  the  poor  poorer." 
However,  it  is  idle  to  indulge  in  such  observations.  As 
the  devil  was  ever  a  liar  from  the  beginning,  so  the  rich 
have  always  been  justly  chargeable  with  oppression  and 
contumely,*  because  it  is  the  attribute  of  wealth  to  make 
people  self-confident  and  overbearing.  The  evil  must  cure 
itself,  but  when — how  ? 

Not  disheartened  altogether,  I  went  to  the  Bank  of  Credit. 

*  It  seems  to  us  there  is  an  unnatural  bitterness  in  this  observation  of  Mr.  PARKIN 
SON.  It  is  not  quite  consistent  with  the  general  spirit  and  tone  of  the  Memoirs.  There 
is  no  sin  in  becoming  rich  or  in  inheriting  wealth,  but  rather  in  too  great  devotion  to 
mammon.  We  must  say  we  think  the  remark  too  sweeping. 

Mr.  PARKINSON,  who  has  just  read  this  paragraph,  desires  us  to  refer  to  the  prayer 
of  AGUK:  "Give  me  neither  poverty  nor  riches,"  .  .  .  "lest  I  be  full  and  deny 
tkee,  and  K<II/,  Who  in  ike  Lord  f '  etc.,  and  also  the  numerous  and  general  denuncia 
tions  of  the  rich  throughout  the  Scriptures,  Old  and  New. — EDITOR  OP  MEMOIRS. 


OF      WALL-STREET.  159 

I  had -known  the  president  less  intimately  than  the  president 
of  the  Bank  of  the  World.  The  cashier,  however,  I  was 
better  acquainted  with.  Indeed  I  had  been  chiefly  instru 
mental,  through  two  of  the  directors,  in  procuring  his  ap 
pointment.  Passing  his  room,  I  stopped  to  speak  with  him. 
He  was  civil  in  reply,  but  changed.  No  pleased  alacrity  of 
demeanor  greeted  the  man  to  whom  he  owed  so  much.  He 
appeared  very  busy — very  much  engrossed — had  not  time 
to  converse.  I  went  into  the  president's  room.  I  am 
pleased  to  record  the  truth  that  he  received  me  kindly,  with 
a  difference  compared  with  his  former  demeanor,  yet  abso 
lutely  with  kindness.  Without  committing  himself,  he  lis 
tened  to  my  plans,  and  suffered  no  one  to  interrupt  me,  and 
finally  said  that  if  I  saw  no  other  opportunity  or  means  of 
employing  myself,  he  would  do  what  he  could  consistently, 
but  really  he  would  not  advise  me  to  undertake  this  sort  of 
business.  He  assured  me  of  his  personal  respect,  however, 
and  added,  although  the  collaterals  left  with  the  bank 
would  not  make  good  the  deficiency  arising  from  the  pay 
ments  under  the  assignment,  the  board  felt  friendly  toward 
me. 

What  more  could  I  ask  or  expect  ?  I  took  leave  some 
what  discouraged,  however,  by  the  tone  in  which  the  pres 
ident  advised  me  to  seek  if  possible  some  other  occupation  ; 
bat  I  could  think  of  no  other ;  and  on  consulting  further 
with  several  acquaintances,  I  decided  to  attempt  this. 

Meantime,  the  foreclosure  suit  had  been  brought  to  a  ter 
mination,  and  the  house  advertised  for  sale.  Just  then  real 
estate  was  "  dull,"  but  the  sale  brought  a  few  capitalists  to 
gether.  Goulding  was  there,  supported  by  Bulldog,  though 


160  UNDERCURRENTS 

when  on  the  spot  he  seemed  averse  to  acknowledging  the 
connection.  Finally  the  property  was  struck  down  to  a 
Germ  in  by  the  name  of  Spink,  for  nineteen  thousand  three 
hundred  and  fifty  dollars !  A  little  short  of  twenty  thou 
sand  dollars  for  what  should  have  brought  at  least  twenty- 
five  thousand.  The  sum  which  I  hoped  would  be  derived 
from  this  house  for  the  benefit  of  my  children  had  dwindled 
to  an  insignificant  amount.  The  mortgage  was  fifteen  thou 
sand;  something  over  a  year's  interest,  eleven  or  twelve 
hundred  dollars  more;  add  the  costs  of  foreclosure,  payment 
of  the  year's  taxes,  sheriff's  fees,  etc.,  and  considerably  less 
than  three  thousand  dollars  would  remain,  arid  even  that 
was  to  be  tied  up  under  Bulldog's  injunction,  while  he  at 
tacked  the  validity  of  the  trust  to  my  wrife. 

A  piece  of  good  fortune  befell  me  about  this  time.  It 
was  the  abandonment  of  his  claims  on  the  personal  property 
by  Bulldog,  and  his  allowing  judgments  by  default  on  the 
replevin  suits.  This  wras  quite  in  accordance  with  his  tac 
tics.  Bulldog  was  chiefly  successful  by  making  a  sudden 
coup,  whereby  he  sought  to  strike  terror  into  the  heart  of 
his  victim  and  compel  immediate  settlement.  If  stoutly  re 
sisted,  he  was  too  shrewd  a  knave  to  prolong  an  unsuccess 
ful  fight,  and  would  acknowledge  his  adversary  had  been 
too  "  smart"  for  him  with  the  same  unblushing  effrontery 
that  lie  would  manifest  in  the  first  attack.  Indeed  the  day 
after  the  suits  were  disposed  of,  Bulldog  went  out  of  his 
way  to  pass  me,  when  he  exclaimed  with  an  oath  he  liked 
my  pluck,  and  admitted  I  had  been  too  "  damned  knowing 
for  him."  "  I  shall  give  you  a  long  pull,  though,  on  the 
house  money,"  he  added  ;  "  besides,  you  have  only  bitten 


OF      W  ALL-S  T  EE  ET.  161 

your  own  nose  off,  damned  close  to  the  face  too."  These 
refined  observations  were  made  to  me,  nolens  volens,  while 
Bulldog  was  passing  on  his  way.  I  neither  replied  to  nor 
noticed  them ;  in  fact,  to  have  defeated  Goulding  put  me 
in  too  pleasant  a  mood  to  be  disturbed  by  any  such  com 
ments. 

Another  agreeable  episode  was  a  little  incident  connected 
with  my  counsel,  Mr.  Norwood.  When  he  drew  up  so 
hastily  the  assignment  of  my  personal  "property,  after  put 
ting  down  all  the  personal  debts,  he  added  also  the  claim 
against  me  by  Norwood  and  Case  for  professional  services. 
This  bill  he  now  proceeded  to  render,  and  to  give  at  the 
same  time  an  account  of  what  he  had  done  as  assignee. 
The  bill  was  made  out  in  form,  and  with  great  minuteness, 
and  reached  a  pretty  large  figure. 

"  I  am  sorry  to  say,  my  friend,"  said  Mr.  Norwood,  "  that 
after  paying  oft*  the  other  claims,  which  were  preferred  by 
my  express  wish  to  that  of  Norwood  and  Case,  there  does 
not  remain  enough  to  satisfy  us.  However,  we  shall  make 
those  fellows  pay  a  good  bill  of  costs,  and  you  must  not  feel 
distressed  about  it." 

I  did  feel  distressed.  I  hardly  could  tell  why,  but  there 
was  something  in  the  tone  which  seemed  very  different 
from  all  Mr.  Norwood  had  ever  before  said.  I  replied  I  was 
sorry,  and  endeavored  to  express  my  gratitude  for  what 
he  had  done  for  me,  but  the  words  stuck  in  my  throat,  and 
in  the  midst  of  it  Mr.  Norwood  took  his  leave. 

I  learned  shortly  after,  that  he  had  deposited  five  hundred 
dollars  in  Alice's  name  in  the  savings  bank,  to  be  employed 
by  her  as  a  reserve  fund  in  case  the  "  house-money"  should 


162  UNDEKCUIIKENTS 

on  any  occasion  happen  to  fail.  Alice  kept  the  secret  from 
me  just  twenty-four  hours;  she  could  contain  herself  no 
longer.  "Really,  papa,  I  was  thinking  how  charming  it 
would  be  to  surprise  you  some  day  when  you  had  no  money 
for  the  marketing.  Just  as  you  were  beginning  to  shake 
your  head,  and  to  feel  very  bad,  I  would  produce  my  purse, 
in  which  I  should  have  ten  dollars,  only  ten  dollars,  you 
know,  so  as  not  to  excite  your  suspicion,  and  I  would  say : 
Look  here,  papa,  do  you  see  that !  and  then  I  should  enjoy 
your  surprise,  and  I  would  keep  my  secret,  to  enjoy  it  again 
and  again.  That  was  my  plan,  but  I  could  not  carry  it  out. 
To  think  of  keeping  any  thing  happy  from  you !  Oh  !  no. 
I  could  not  do  it." 

Do  you  not  suppose,  reader,  that  listening  to  my  beloved 
child,  I  forgot  every  misfortune,  and  could  even  bless  the 
severe  and  untoward  destiny  which  had  developed  such  filial 
tenderness? 


OP     WALL-STREET.  163 


CHAPTER    IV. 

SOL     DOWNER. 

MANY  years  before,  I  had  known  a  man  in  my  old  busi 
ness,  prior  to  1837.  Our  stores  were  adjoining,  and  on  one 
occasion  we  were  passengers  together  in  this  same  vessel, 
the  packet  ship  "Roscoe,"  to  Liverpool.  This  person  failed, 
and  disappeared  from  business  circles.  Later  he  could  be 
found  in  Wall-street,  and  I  used  to  meet  him  frequently, 
and  sometimes  stopped  to  speak  with  him,  for  my  heart 
warmed  toward  the  man,  because  we  had  been  neighbors  ; 
and  it  brought  back  the  recollection  of  my  early  business 
life,  and  of  the  prosperous  days  before  my  first  failure,  when 
nobody  was  poor,  and  almost  every  one  was  making  a  for 
tune — on  paper.  Besides,  we  both  had  broke.  I  recovered, 
he  never  did,  but  after  a  while  found  his  way  into  Wall- 
street,  where  he  turned  his  hand  to  any  thing  and  every 
thing  out  of^vvhich  a  commission  could  be  carved.  His 
name  was  Downer — Solomon  Downer — and  he  was  known 
in  the  street  familiarly  as  Old  Sol.  His  reputation  of  late 
years  had  become  considerably  damaged,  and  the  terms, 
"  Old  Rip,"  "  Old  Scamp,"  "  Old  Knave,"  were  freely  ap 
plied  to  him.  I  never  could  learn  what  Solomon  Downer 
was  guilty  of.  If  you  asked  for  particulars  you  would  be 
answered  only  by  a  fresh  application  of  epithets. 


164  UNDERCURRENTS 

"  Wouldn't  trust  him  as  far  as  I  could  swing  a  bull  by 
the  tail,"  said  one. 

"  Why  not  ?" 

"  Give  him  a  note  to  sell,  and  you  will  find  out." 

"  Did  he  ever  swindle  you  ?" 

"  Me  !  do  you  think  I  would  give  him  a  chance  ?" 

"  Or  any  of  your  friends  ?" 

"  My  friends  are  not  so  green." 

"  So  you  do  not  know  any  thing  about  him  ?" 

"  I  know  enough  to  give  him  a  wide  berth." 

Notwithstanding  these  severe  observations,  I  continued 
to  exchange  friendly  greetings  with  my  old  acquaintance, 
and  frequently  entered  into  conversation  with  him  when  oc 
casion  presented.  He  had  a  shrewd  biting  manner  whien 
he  talked  with  you,  not  exactly  bitter,  but  keen  and  sharp. 
One  could  see  that  the  man  lived  a  life  of  perpetual  alert 
ness  ;  as  if  always  under  martial  law,  and  in  constant  ex 
pectation  of  an  attack.  So  all  humanizing  qualities  were 
kept  under,  lest  they  should  afford  an  exposed  point  to  the 
enemy. 

Some  days  after  my  conclusion  to  take  an  office  in  Wall- 
street,  for  the  purpose  of  acting  as  a  broker  between  parties 
who  wished  to  sell  notes  and  acceptances,  and  those  who 
would  buy,  I  met  Solomon  Downer  on  the  north-east  corner 
of  Wall  and  William  streets,  standing  near  the  entrance  to 
the  Bank  of  New  York.  He  stepped  down  to  the  side 
walk  as  I  came  up,  and  we  shook  hands.  I  thought  he 
looked  rather  more  gaunt  than  usual,  and  his  face  thinner. 
I  asked  him  how  he  was.  He  said  he  had  been  ill  for  two 
or  three  days.  "Must  keep  stirring,  though,"  he  contin- 


OF      WALL-STREET.  165 

ued ;  "hunger  wont  wait,  though  I  have  had  to — a  man 
promised  to  meet  me  here  at  two,  to  give  me  the  money 
for  a  note  :  now  it's  ten  minutes  to  three." 

A  person  here  ran  up  in  great  haste,  and  asked  some  ques 
tions.  "Not  yet,"' was  the  answer. 

"  But  what  shall  I  do  ?     I  must  have  the  money." 

"  Wait  a  few  minutes." 

"  Few  minutes  be  damned  !  I  tell  you  I  shall  be  pro 
tested  ;  you  have  deceived  me;  kept  me  waiting  all  day; 
said  I  was  going  to  have  the  money.  Where  is  my  note  ?" 
It  was  handed  to  him.  "Guess  you  wont  get  another  of 
mine  into  your  hands  very  soon  ;"  and  off  he  ran,  muttering 
something  which  sounded  like  "  old  swindler." 

Solomon  Downer  resumed  his  conversation  with  me,  as  if 
he  had  experienced  no  interruption.  "  Yes,  I  have  waited 
for  the  man  since  two  o'clock,  and  if  he  comes  now  he  wont 
do  me  any  good  :  not  in  luck  to-day." 

"  How  do  you  like  Wall-street  ?"  I  asked. 

"  How  do  I  LIKE  it ;  how  would  you  like  HELL  !"  he  ex 
claimed  almost  fiercely.  "  Oh !  I  like  it  well  enough,"  he 
continued,  just  as  if  he  had  made  no  previous  answer ;  "  yes, 
well  enough.  We  all  get  along;  it  don't  make  much  differ 
ence  where  we  are.  Plessis  came  to  me  the  other  day  with 
the  horrors:  folks  will  have  them,  you  know.  'My  GOD, 
Sol,'  says  he,  '  what  am  I  to  do  ?  distress-warrant  served 
this  morning  at  eleven ;  my  furniture  will  be  turned  out  by 
three  o'clock  if  I  don't  raise  the  money  for  the  landlord. 
Sol,  I  am  weary  of  it ;  worn  out ;  used  up  ;  it's  no  use  ;  I 
can't  go  on  any  longer.' 

"  *  Why,  Plessis,'  saya  I,  'don't  be  discouraged;  you've  r/ot 


16t3  UNDERCURRENTS 

to  go  on.  I  never  new  a,  man  stick  yet ;  sure  to  be  kept  a 
moving — ha,  ha,  ha!  Don't  mind  it.  Take  it  quiet — ha,  ha, 
ha"  You  see  Plessis  wasn't  toughened  to  it  as  I  have  been." 

Thereupon  I  rather  bluntly  announced  to  my  companion 
that  I  myself  entertained  the  idea  of  engaging  in  a  Wall- 
street  business.  Solomon  Downer  turned  square  upon  me, 
and  caught  hold  of  my  arm. 

"  'Taint  so.  I  swear  I  don't  believe  it.  I  knew  of  your 
failure,  but  you  have  not  come  to  that" 

I  nodded. 

"  Parkinson,"  said  Downer  looking  at  me  earnestly,  "  Par 
kinson,  I  say,  do  you  remember  how  once  in  company  we 
made  a  voyage  to  Liverpool ;  both  of  us  young  men  ;  active ; 
educated  to  business,  and  honest,  I  guess  ?  Do  you  remem 
ber  how  we  used  to  talk  together,  those  long  evenings; 
hopeful,  fresh  in  feeling,  eager  in  pursuit  ?  bah !  now  look  at 
me.  Well,  never  mind,  but  do  you  recollect  among  other 
things  we  both  said  we  never  would  stay  in  a  place  where 
we  had  hopelessly  failed  ?  We  agreed  it  was  the  only  way, 
to  strike  out  somewhere,  try  a  new  field,  and  so  forth.  We 
did  not  either  of  us  believe  we  should  fail.  Every  thing 
was  gold  in  color  then,  but  \ve  talked  wisely  about  misfor 
tune,  nevertheless.  We  had  pleasant  times  after  we  landed," 
he  continued.  "  If  I  remember  right  your  wife  was  with 
you.  GOD  forgive  me — you  look — have  you  lost  her  ? 
Well,  be  thankful.  I  was  about  to  say,  I  have  broken  the 
resolution  we  esteemed  so  judicious :  beware  you  don't 
break  it." 

"  You  have  been  unfortunate  here  perhaps,"  I  said,  4t  and 
you  look  on  the  gloomy  side." 


OF      WALL-STREET.  167 

"  I  do,  for  both  sides  are  gloomy.  I  don't  suppose  you 
will  change  your  decision  for  any  thing  I  can  say.  Indeed, 
why  should  you  ?  Folks  call  me  a  rascal,  Parkinson,"  said 
Downer  after  a  pause,  and  in  a  careless  tone,  in  strange 
contrast  with  his  previous  manner ;  "  I  know  they  do  :  you 
know  it  too.  I  suppose  I  do  a  good  many  things  which 
would  not  bear  clerical  criticism,  but  I  adapt  myself  to  the 
company  I  keep,  and  so  must  you,  if  you  come  among  us, 
or  be  plucked  bare,  and  no  larceny  committed  either.  Lewis 
don't  get  hauled  up  by  the  police  because  he  keeps  a  man 
till  five  minutes  before  three,  in  order  to  squeeze  an  extra 
percentage  out  of  him,  before  giving  him  the  money  he 
knows  he  is  bound  to  have.  Jones  gets  up  a  corner  in 
stocks,  and  beggars  Smith,  a  poor  outsider,  who  just  steps 
in  to  try  a  hand ;  but  Jones  is  not  sent  to  BlackwelPs  Island. 
Now  I  have  fought  beasts  at  Ephesus  from  self-defence,  be 
cause  I  can't  get  out  of  the  den.  And  you  want  the  grating 
opened  to  let  you  in  !  Well,  good  luck  to  you !"  and  Sol 
Downer  turned  and  started  rapidly  away. 

His  advice  did  not  much  affect  me.  I  had  already  de 
cided,  and  why  should  the  words  of  a  man  soured  with  his 
destiny  overturn  a  carefully  considered  plan-  a  plan  recom 
mended  by  judicious  persons  ? 


168  UNDERCURRENTS 


CHAPTER    V. 

CLOSE     CALCULATIONS. 

I  TOOK  a  small  single  room  for  an  office.  I  was  fortunate 
in  getting  it  in  an  excellent  locality,  and  at  a  comparatively 
moderate  rent,  in  consequence  of  its  forming  the  smallest 
of  a  large  suite,  occupied  by  a  new  coal  company,  which 
having  no  use  for  this,  gave  it  to  me  at  a  bargain.  A  neat 
"  tin,"  on  which  my  name  was  modestly  printed  in  gilt  let 
ters,  was  placed  in  the  centre  of  the  door.  A  roll  of  car 
peting,  which  remained  over  at  the  auction  unclaimed,  was 
nicely  fitted  to  the  floor.  I  added  a  desk  and  some  chairs, 
and  a  small  table ;  and  thus  I  embarked  my  small  shallop 
on  the  sea  of  Wall-street  life.  I  was  to  put  in  the  market 
my  business  experience,  my  aptitude  in  affairs,  and  my  facil 
ities  for  negotiation  derived  from  a  large  acquaintance  with 
the  mercantile  class.  I  felt  confident  I  could  earn  by  legiti 
mate  industry  in  this  way  enough  to  support  myself  and  my 
children. 

I  had  counted  over  and  over  the  probable  expenses  of  our 
establishment  per  annum,  beginning  with  "Rent,"  three 
hundred  and  fifty  dollars,  and  going  through  every  item  of 
household  expenditure — grocer,  butcher,  market-man,  bread, 
milk,  fuel,  gas,  water,  clothing,  schooling,  omnibus,  pew- 
rent,  one  servant.  Alice  availed  herself  of  each  week's 
experience  to  make  some  improvement  whereby  we  lived  a 


OP      WALL-STREET.  169 

little  better  on  the  same  sum,  or  reduced  the  amount  to  be 
expended.  With  fifteen  hundred  dollars,  calculating  very 
closely,  Alice  and  I  concluded  we  could  get  along.  That 
was  about  thirty  dollars  a  week.  Could  I  earn  thirty  dol 
lars  each  and  every  week,  besides  paying  the  rent  of  the 
office  ?  To  do  it  I  should  have  to  make  five  dollars  per  day, 
one  day  with  another.  No  allowance  here  for  "  extras ;" 
a  new  book,  or  a  ride,  or  a  week  out  of  town,  a  bottle  of 
wine  or  a  cigar.  No.  The  first  struggle  was  to  live,  and 
live  decently.  This  was  what  I  undertook  to  compass,  by 
making  the  most  of  my  intelligence,  and  my  acquaintance 
with  business  and  business  men. 

Fifteen  hundred  dollars  a  year  does  not  seem  a  great  deal 
to  you,  does  it,  my  young  friend,  who  are  just  embarking 
in  mercantile  business,  with  some  capital  and  a  good  credit  ? 
You  are  just  married,  and  you  have  no  idea  of  limiting  your 
expenses  to  so  insignificant  a  sum,  have  you  ?  Yet,  if  you 
should  be  forced  to  bring  your  expenditures  within  your 
actual  profits,  who  knows  if  you  would  exceed  that  sum  ? 
Actually  embarked  in  aifairs — buying,  selling,  receiving, 
paying — you  are  not  apt  to  distinguish  between  what  be 
longs  to  you  and  what  to  your  creditors.  You  dip  into  the 
general  deposit,  and  help  yourself  to  a  living :  more  than 
that,  you  have  your  pleasures  and  your  luxuries  to  pay  for, 
and  your  wife  has  hers,  all  to  come  out  of  the  bills  receiv 
able,  and  without  any  great  regard  to  the  bills  payable : 
nay,  more,  while  on  your  part  this  is  generally  mere  thought 
lessness,  occasionally  some  of  you — I  have  myself  heard  it 
— will  say :  "  Never  mind.  If  I  succeed  it  will  be  all  right ; 
if  I  don't,  a  few  hundred  doUars  wont  make  much  differ- 
8 


170  UNDERCURRENTS 

ence  in  a  dividend  among  so  many,  and  I  shall  have  had  the 
good  of  it !"  In  the  first  case  it  is  inexcusable  improvi 
dence,  in  the  last  dishonesty.  To  live  within  your  available 
means  is  the  most  sacred  of  obligations,  and  three-fourths 
of  all  the  troubles  and  cares  of  life  are  from  a  violation  of  it. 

I  was  forced  to  the  adoption  of  the  rule  :  "  Earn  before 
you  eat."  I  could  have  wished  for  a  little  leeway,  but  I 
had  none.  It  was  true  Alice  was  the  possessor  of  five  hun 
dred  dollars,  and  the  knowledge  of  it  was  a  source  of  great 
satisfaction  to  me.  It  relieved  me  of  a  most  unhappy  ap 
prehension  of  what  might  befall  us  should  I  be  taken  ill,  and 
be  for  a  time  unable  to  earn  any  thing.  Unfortunately  I 
had  when  a  young  man  neglected  to  insure  my  life,  and  at 
this  advanced  period  I  could  not-  afford  to  pay  the  premium 
on  a  comparatively  moderate  sum.  I  strove  therefore  with 
energy  to  not  die.  I  must  not  leave  these  three  children 
unprotected. 

It  was  with  considerable  confidence,  then,  that  I  girded 
myself  to  the  task  of  earning  five  dollars  a  day,  and  office- 
rent.  Alice  was  so  cheerful,  the  arrangements  of  our  little 
house  were  so  complete,  owing  entirely  to  her  good  taste 
and  assiduity;  we  were  all  of  us  so  happy  in  each  other,  shut 
out  from  the  world,  and  making  a  blessed  heaven  of  our 
home,  that  I  began  to  yield  to  these  precious  influences,  and 
to  feel  a  courage  which  I  expected  never  again  to  regain. 

The  spring  had  put  forth  its  early  blossoms  and  green 
leaves ;  summer  had  come  with  its  rich  flowers  and  foliage, 
and  early  fruits ;  with  its  usual  heats,  too,  sending  away 
from  the  city  those  who  can  afford  the  expense  of  thu  re 
laxation,  while  I  was  endeavoring  to  decide  what  I  should 


OF      WALL-STKEET.  171 

betake  myself  to  for  a  support.  It  was  late  in  the  month 
of  September  when  I  did  determine,  as  already  narrated, 
on  going  into  Wall-street.  The  equinoctial  storm  had  passed. 
The  bracing,  yet  genial  air  of  a  New  York  autumn — how 
glorious  it  is ! — welcomed  the  returning  denizens  of  the 
town,  and  made  the  pulse  beat  with  a  renewed  strength. 
The  streets  once  more  assumed  the  appearance  of  great 
animation.  The  effects  of  the  past  calamitous  season  were 
nearly  effaced.  Every  thing  pointed  to  a  promising  fall 
trade.  There  were  various  indications  of  considerable  spec 
ulative  action  in  the  stock-market,  and  among  mining  and 
railroad  companies.  Once  more  the  genius  of  the  Yankee 
nation  was  beginning  to  display  its  restless  activity. 

"  Parkinson,  you  have  just  hit  it,"  said  Lecount  to  me ; 
"  couldn't  have  chosen  a  better  time.  You'll  make  a  fortune, 
sure,  if  you  keep  your  eyes  about  you." 


172  UNDEBCTTKUENTS 


CHAPTER    VI. 

SPLENDID     OFFERS. 

it  was  understood  that  Charles  E.  Parkinson  was 
"  going  into  the  street,"  as  the  phrase  is,  the  impression  at 
the  same  time  generally  gained  ground  that  the  said  Par 
kinson  had  money  at  his  command — that  is,  the  outsiders 
thought  so;  people  who  were  familiar  with  the  name  of  our 
firm  and  its  extensive  operations,  but  who  were  not  ac 
quainted  with  particulars.  There  were  a  good  many,  too, 
who  entertained  the  idea  that  my  wife  left  a  large  property 
which  I  held.  The  schemes  which  in  consequence  were 
presented  on  making  my  appearance  among  the  opera 
tors,  surprised  even  me,  who  was  presumed  to  be  well  up 
in  all  that  was  going  on  in  the  city.  Each  of  these  enter 
prises  required  but  a  little  money  to  give  it  an  effectual 
foothold,  and  if  I  would  make  the  advance  my  fortune  was 
assured.  One  man  had  a  plan  for  fertilizing  the  vacant 
lands  on  Long  Island,  which  he  said  could  be  bought  up  at 
ten  dollars  an  acre,  and  in  twelve  months  sold  for  at  least 
five  hundred  dollars.  Another  owned  a  coal  mine  in  Mary 
land,  and  required  only  a  thousand  dollars  to  enable  him  to 
float  a  company.  Another  had  an  improvement  scheme  at 
Hoboken,  and  a  fourth  brought  me  a  prospectus  for  estab 
lishing  a  society  for  the  manufacture  of  the  choicest  toilet 
soap  out  of  common  bar.  This  last  man  wanted  but  a  hun- 


OF      WALL-STREET.  173 

dred  dollars,  and  if  I  would  raise  it  I  was  to  be  an  equal 
partner  in  the  business,  with  a  permanent  profit  insured  to 
me  for  my  share,  of  just  ninety  dollars  a  week.  Very  com 
fortable. 

There  were  also  projects  on  foot  for  bringing  under  culti 
vation  the  vast  and  unexplored  regions  of  Western  Virginia, 
where  lands  could  be  had  for  from  three  to  five  cents  an 
acre — title  from  the  state  !  California  had  begun  that  year 
to  tempt  adventurers,  and  there  were  many  schemes  pre 
sented  for  traffic  there. 

I  was  at  first  completely  surrounded  by  these  various  ap 
plicants,  who  fastened  on  me  as  mosquitos  in  a  southern 
clime  are  said  to  assail  new-comers  from  the  north.  Persons 
at  my  age  are  inclined  to  philosophize,  and  the  first  con 
clusion  I  arrived  at  was,  that  the  majority  of  these  individ 
uals  were  honest,  well-meaning  enthusiasts,  and  in  no  sense 
sharpers  or  knaves.  They  were  in  the  main  people  who 
were  anxious  to  make  a  fortune  at  a  stroke,  and  who  be 
lieved  they  certainly  would  do  so,  just  as  soon  as  their 
scheme  was  taken  up.  Sometimes  I  was  inclined  to  envy 
them  the  brightness  of  their  prospects,  the  buoyancy  of 
their  hopes,  and  the  elasticity  of  their  natures.  No  rebuff 
nor  discomfiture  affected  their  spirits ;  the  good  day  Avas 
surely  coming,  and  their  eyes  brightened  and  their  faces 
gleamed  when  they  spoke  of  it.  They  were  sorry,  all  of 
them,  that  I  could  not  see  the  thing  as  they  did ;  it  was  in 
vain  I  told  them  I  had  no  money,  and  besides,  it  was  out  of 
my  line.  They  knew  that  I  knew  where  money  could  be 
found,  and  what  matter  how  I  made  a  fortune  if  it  were 
done  honestly  ?  one  happy  stroke,  one  single  investment,  and 


174  UNDERCURRENTS 

a  comfortable  independence  would  be  secured  to  me  for  the 
remainder  of  my  days.  Happy  men,  who  see  a  golden 
prospect  in  every  thing  they  undertake,  who  are  discouraged 
by  no  disasters,  whose  ardor  is  damped  by  no  disappoint 
ment  ;  who,  just  as  one  project  fails,  are  put  in  possession  of 
another  much  more  promising,  and  who  live  on  under  the 
encouragement  of  expectations  the  most  brilliant  and  results 
the  most  sure.  Sometimes  people  of  this  class  chance  on  a 
valuable  thing,  but  they  reap  little  benefit  from  it.  The 
profits  are  all  absorbed  by  the  capitalists,  while  they  just  as 
eagerly  as  ever  set  about  some  newer  enterprise. 

But  it  was  not  the  class  of  harmless  visionaries  alone  who 
beset  me.  I  have  already  mentioned  that  the  room  I  occu 
pied  was  one  of  a  suit  taken  by  a  newly  launched  coal  com 
pany.  This  company  occupied  three  apartments,  expensively 
fitted  up,  with  every  appliance  for  facilitating  transactions 
in  their  stock.  As  you  entered,  the  first  object  which  met 
your  eye  was  the  "  transfer  desk,"  behind  which  stood  a 
handsome  young  man,  fashionably  dressed,  apparently  occu 
pied  with  the  books.  You  passed  on  along  a  line  of  coun 
ters,  until  you  reached  room  number  two,  in  which  the 
company  held  their  meetings.  On  one  side  of  this  was  a 
very  neat  office  for  the  president ;  on  the  other  side  was  the 
little  room  which  had  been  rented  to  me. 

The  Concordia  Valley  Coal  Company — such  was  its  cor 
porate  name— was  evidently  preparing  for  large  operations; 
certainly  from  appearances  there  could  be  no  lack  of  sub 
scriptions  or  of  paid-up  capital.  It  was  therefore  with  some 
considerable  surprise  on  the  first  morning  after  taking  pos 
session  of  my  office,  that  I  received  an  invitation  from  the 


OF      WALL-STKEET.  175 

president  to  step  into  his  private  room.  Accordingly,  I  fol 
lowed  the  gentleman  into  his  special  apartment,  which  I 
found  admirably  carpeted  and  fitted  up.  On  one  side  was 
a  handsome  lounge  covered  with  morocco,  on  the  other  an 
expensive  desk,  with  an  arm-chair  to  match,  besides  a  full 
supply  of  smaller  furniture  displayed  around  the  room. 
There  was  a  handsome  map  of  the  Concordia  coal  region 
on  the  wall,  and  several  smaller  ones,  showing  with  pictu 
resque  effect  the  practical  workings  of  this  particular  com 
pany  in  the  famous  Concordia  Valley.  Here  was  presented 
a  section  of  the  remarkable  mine  itself,  where  were  toiling 
hundreds  of  men,  all  visible  to  the  naked  eye,  getting  out 
coal.  An  expensive  double -track  railroad  received  the  prod 
uct  of  various  tram-roads,  and,  as  per  map  number  two, 
conveyed  it  to  several  first-class  steamers,  all  the  property 
of  the  company,  and  which  lay  at  a  fine  dock  near  by  on  an 
expansive  sheet  of  water,  with  steam  on,  and  only  waiting 
for  the  balance  of  the  freight,  to  proceed  to  New  York  and 
report  to  the  accomplished  gentleman  in  whose  presence  I 
was.  The  gentleman  himself  was  in  perfect  keeping  with 
these  surroundings.  He  might  have  been  five-and-thirty, 
very  handsomely  but  not  foppishly  dressed,  if  I  may  except 
a  rather  prominent  display  of  a  heavy  gold  watch-chain. 
His  manner  was  easy,  frank,  and  off-hand.  He  was  one  of 
those  who  always  seem  to  manifest  a  magnetic  appreciation 
of  the  position  of  every  person  he  is  brought  in  contact  with, 
and  at  the  same  time  to  enter  with  an  active  sympathy  into 
the  presumed  cares  and  annoyances  of  each. 

As  we  came  into  the  room  Mr.  Tremaine  closed  the  door 
very  carefully,  asked  me  to  be  seated  on  the  lounge,  wheeled 


176  UNDERCURRENTS 

his  large  chair,  which  worked  on  the  rotary  principle,  close 
to  me;  crossed  his  legs,  swayed  himself  gently  once  or 
twice  about  the  segment  of  a  quarter  of  a  circle,  then  bring 
ing  himself  to  a  stand-still,  with  an  arm  resting  on  each  arm 
of  the  chair,  he  commenced  the  conversation. 

"  Excuse  my  laying  hold  of  you  thus  early,  Mr.  Parkin 
son,"  he  began  ;  "but  I  wished  to  talk  with  you  about  the 
prospects  of  our  company  before  you  become  interested  in 
any  other  enterprise.  To  be  perfectly  frank  with  you,  I  in 
structed  Sewall  (he  was  the  broker  through  whom  I  rented 
my  office)  to  give  you  that  little  room  at  half  price,  because 
I  wanted  you  near  us,  Mr.  Parkinson.  I  wanted  to  reap 
some  benefit  from  your  great  and  varied  business  experience, 
and  I  am  sure  you  will  excuse  the  little  stratagem,  since  it 
has  given  you  a  very  cheap  rent,  and  as  I  avow  the  truth 
so  frankly,  you  can  hardly  fear  the  effect  of  so  direct  an  at 
tempt  on  you." 

Mr.  Tremaine  paused,  as  if  to  give  additional  force  to  his 
air  of  sincerity.  For  myself,  I  could  only  bow  a  pleasant 
acquiescence  to  his  statement  and  wait  quietly  for  what  was 
to  come. 

"  Now,  Mr.  Parkinson,"  he  continued,  "  you  understand 
the  difficulty  in  starting  any  valuable  enterprise.  We  have 
got  on  thus  far  better  even  than  could  be  expected.  But 
we  must  now  make  an  extraordinary  effort,  and  it  is  on  this 
point  that  I  wish  to  bring  you  into  our  consultations.  Of 
course,  you  will  consider  whatever  is  said  as  strictly  confi 
dential.  I  am  sure  I  can  rely  on  you." 

It  seemed  to  me  as  if  this  was  a  proper  time  to  inter 
rupt  Mr.  Tremaine's  "  confidential"  communication.  So  I 


OF      AV  A  L  L  -S  Til  E  E  T  .  177 

stopped  him  as  he  was  about  to  proceed,  and  began  to  ex 
plain  that  in  coming  into  Wall-street  I  had  but  one  object  in 
view,  and  proposed  to  myself  but  one  way  to  compass  it.  I 
had  detemiined  to  adhere  to  a  single  business ;  and  since  I 
had  positively  no  money  to  invest  in  any  enterprise,  my 
time  must  be  devoted  to  this  one. 

I  was  proceeding  still  further,  when  Mr.  Tremaine  in  his 
turn  interrupted  me  with :  "  Really,  Mr.  Parkinson,  you 
quite  mistake  me.  Do  not  suppose  for  an  instant  that  I 
have  the  least  idea  of  presenting  any  thing  to  you  which 
shall  take  your  money,  or  more  of  your  time  than  you  are 
quite  willing  to  bestow.  Do  you  think,  even  if  I  were  dis 
posed  to  draw  in  any  human  being,  and  GOD  knows  nothing 
is  further  from  my  thoughts,  that  I  should  begin  with  an  old, 
experienced  New  York  merchant  ?  No,  no,  not  quite  that. 
So  I  am  sure  you  will  at  least  give  me  a  hearing." 

Thereupon  Mr.  Tremaine  went  on  to  explain  how  the 
Company  had  control  of  seven  thousand  acres  of  choice  bi 
tuminous  coal  lands,  located  within  three  miles  of  navigable 
waters,  to  which  by  an  easy  and  level  access  a  railroad  could 
be  built  at  a  small  expense.  The  coal  was  of  the  best  qual 
ity — so  good  that  the  Cunard  Company  was  ready  to  enter 
into  a  contract  to  take  their  whole  supply  from  the  Con- 
cordia  Valley  Company  as  soon  as  it  was  ready  to  fur 
nish  it. 

From  further  explanations  of  Mr.  Tremaine,  it  appeared 
that  the  capital  of  the  company  was  two  millions  of  dol 
lars.  Of  this,  one  million  four  hundred  thousand  dollars 
were  represented  by  the  seven  thousand  acres  of  land, 
which  the  proprietors  generously  put  at  the  very  low  sum 


178  U  N  D  E  II  C  U  11  11  E  N  T  S 

of  two  hundred  dollars  per  acre.  Three  hundred  thousand 
dollars  were  appropriated  as  active  capital  for  the  building 
of  the  railroad  and  a  wharf,  and  opening  the  mine,  and  the 
remaining  three  hundred  thousand  dollars  were  4eld  for  a 
reserve  fund. 

It  was  further  explained  to  me,  in  the  strictest  confidence 
too,  that  the  stock  of  the  company  was  already  quoted  at 
the  board,  through  the  influence  of  one  of  the  members, 
who  was  to  be  interested  in  the  future  operations,  and  that 
as  a  matter  of  policy,  considerable  transactions  were  carried 
on  from  time  to  time,  and  the  stock  allowed  to  fluctuate  two 
or  three  per  cent,  with  the  hope  after  a  while  of  getting 
outsiders  to  take  hold  of  it.  This  Mr.  Tremaine  admitted 
was  rather  expensive,  since  it  would  not  do  to  let  the  small 
brokers,  who  were  intrusted  with  the  purchases  and  sales, 
into  the  secret,  so  every  transaction  cost  the  company  at 
least  one-eighth  per  cent.,  and  sometimes  a  quarter.  Still, 
this  was  the  only  way.  Indeed,  could  the  company  now 
raise  the  trifling  sum  of  fifty  thousand  dollars,  the  railroad 
could  be  built,  and  coal  actually  sent  to  market!  The  mo 
ment  traffic  was  reported,  a  dividend  could  be  declared,  if 
necessary,  out  of  the  reserve  stock,  and  sufficient  of  the  two 
millions  launched  on  the  street  to  make  the  company  per 
fectly  easy  in  its  transactions,  and  the  projectors  rich  men. 

Up  to  this  point  it  did  not  transpire  what  was  to  be  my 
own  special  agency  in  bringing  about  so  pleasing  a  consum 
mation.  But  I  was  not  long  to  remain  in  ignorance  or  sus 
pense,  for  Mr.  Tremaine,  after  one  of  his  impressive  pauses, 
continued  in  this  wise : 

44  Now,  Mr.  Parkinson,  I  think  I  have  succeeded  in  satis- 


OP      WALL-STREET.  1  79 

lying  you  that  our  enterprise  is  strictly  a  legitimate  one— 
thai  is,  it  can  stand  on  its  intrinsic  merits,  and  on  strict 
commercial  principles.  The  lands  are  worth  all  that  is 
claimed  for  them.  The  expense  of  transportation  can  be 
calculated  to  a  penny.  We  know  just  what  it  costs  to  de 
liver  the  coal  on  board  the  steamers,  and  what  it  will  bring 
in  New  York.  And  you  must  be  convinced  that  when  we 
are  in  full  operation  we  can  readily  divide  from  ten  to  fifteen 
per  cent,  on  our  capital  of  two  millions.  Now,  I  repeat,  my 
object  is  to  interest  you  in  this  great  enterprise.  Perhaps 
you  will  say,  if  such  are  its  advantages,  why  have  not  the 
capitalists  taken  hold  of  it  ?  My  dear  sir,  do  you  think  I 
would  present  it  to  them  f  Why,  I  could  raise  what  money 
we  required  in  half  an  hour,  but  they  would  insist  on  the 
lion's  share— you  know  it  is  so— and  lick  up  all  the  profits, 
and  leave  us  just  where  we  began.  No,  no,  we  can't  quite 
stand  that ;  but  we  are  willing  to  divide  fairly  with  those 
who  help  to  raise  the  necessary  funds  ;  ant!  my  proposition 
is,  that  I  will  issue  to  you  a  hundred  thousand  dollars  of 
our  stock,  for  which  you  shall  raise  us  ten  thousand  dollars 
cash.  In  other  words,  you  get  your  stock  for  ten  cents  on 
the  dollar.  The  company  will  guarantee  that  every  dollar 
of  this  money  shall  be  employed  for  the  building  of  the 
road,  and  you  must  agree  not  to  put  your  stock  in  the  mar 
ket  except  in  conjunction  with  our  own  operations,  pro  rata, 
the  usual  way,  you  know." 

"  But,  my  dear  sir,  I  have  just  explained  to  you  that  I 
have  no  money  to  invest " 

"  And  I,"  interrupted  Mr.  Tremaine,  "  assured  you  that 
we  did  not  want  your  money.  But  you  have  a  large  circle 


180  UNDEIICURKENTS 

of  influential  friends,  Mr.  Parkinson,  who  will  be  only  too 
happy  to  take  a  thousand  or  two  dollars  at  par  on  your 
recommendation.  Why,  as  money  is  now  working,  I  have 
no  doubt  you  can  raise  the  whole  sum  in  a  week ;  and  see 
what  a  brilliant  stroke  it  will  be  for  you.  I  know  what  you 
are  thinking  about,"  continued  this  frank  and  earnest-heart 
ed  man ;  "  the  affair  strikes  you  as  too  good.  I  know  it, 
but  I  can't  help  it — there  it  is.  We  have  got  the  lands ; 
that  is  the  point,  and  we  are  willing  to  dispose  of  five  hun 
dred  thousand  dollars  at  ten  per  cent,  rather  than  give  up 
to  the  capitalists.  We  shall  still  retain  the  three  hundred 
thousand  dollars  as  a  reserve  fund.  Now,  you  have  it  all  in 
the  strictest  confidence — do  not  forget,  Mr,  Parkinson,  in 
the  strictest  confidence." 

Reader,  there  is  something  fascinating  and  most  pleasantly 
bewildering  in  these  charming  schemes  which  promise  so 
golden  a  future.  As  the  weary  and  thirsty  traveller  in  the 
desert  is  constantly  allured  to  various  quarters  of  the  horizon 
by  images  of  shady  groves  and  cool  fountains,  so  in  the  great 
desert  which  poverty  creates,  there  is  ever  present  the  same 
wonderful  mirage  where  the  poor  wretch  sees  again  a  happy 
home  and  the  return  of  life's  pleasurable  luxuries,  and  en 
joys  in  prospect  his  seasons  of  ease.  We  are  tenacious  in 
our  memories  of  past  good  fortune,  and  are  apt  to  be  des 
perate  in  our  attempts  to  regain  it.  The  man  who  has  lost 
his  property  walks  moodily  along  of  an  afternoon,  and  sees 
his  old  acquaintances  driving  out  for  an  ailing  on  the  av 
enues.  The  very  posture  which  these  people  innocently 
enough  adopt,  annoys  and  irritates  him.  The  quiet  but 
very  conscious  abandon  of  mamma  and  her  daughter,  the 


OF     WALL-STREET.  181 

not  easy  but  entirely  self-satisfied  air  of  papa,  as  he  folds 
his  arms  and  looks  with  careless  unconcern  upon  vacancy, 
while  the  coachman,  carriage  and  horses  are  in  perfect  keep 
ing  with  the  pose  of  master  and  mistress.  Well,  what 
wonder  that  the  unfortunate  are  willing  to  attempt  much, 
and  venture  much  to  regain  their  lost  position  ?  what  won 
der  that  they  desperately  grasp  at  the  phantoms  which  al 
lure  them  with  promises  of  renewed  fortunes  ? 

While  the  last  tones  of  Mr.  Tremaine  fell  on  my  ear,  the 
room  seemed  to  dance  round  and  round,  and  the  maps  of 
the  Concordia  Valley  Coal  Company  were  converted  into 
one  grand,  magnificent  tableau,  revolving  swiftly,  but  grow 
ing  larger  and  brighter  each  revolution.  Ninety  thousand 
dollars  of  the  stock !  Ten  per  cent,  dividend !  A  clear 
rental  of  nine  thousand  dollars  per  annum !  Why  not  ? 
The  most  successful  enterprises  are  from  small  and  difficult 

beginnings The  bland  tones  of  Mr.  Tremaine 

once  more  fell  on  my  ear,  and  recalled  me  to  myself.  "  I 
perceive,  Mr.  Parkinson,  that  you  are  carefully  considering 
this  matter.  Don't  let  me  press  you  to  a  decision :  take 
time  and  think  the  affair  over,  and  if  any  question  arises,  or 
any  objections  to  the  plan  occur  to  you,  let  me  hear  them 
frankly,  and  I  am  certain  I  can  fully  satisfy  you." 

I  had  recovered  myself.  Instead  of  the  nine  thousand 
dollars  a  year  dividends  from  coal  stock,  the  more  practical 
and  pressing  requirement  of  five  dollars  a  day  rose  up  to 
view.  But  while  I  had  too  much  sagacity  not  to  under 
stand  the  absolutely  chimerical  nature  of  these  propositions, 
yet,  so  much  do  we  love  to  cheat  ourselves  with  some  sweet 
delusion,  I  did  not  decline  his  proposition :  I  even  said  I 


182  UNDERCURRENTS 

would  consider  it ;  and  I  left  Mr.  Tremaine's  office  feeling 
as  if  I  was  in  some  sort  a  man  of  substance,  with  an  option 
at  my  disposal,  and  a  considerable  stake  in  the  valuable  coal 
regions  of  Concordia  Valley. 


OF      AVALL-STKEET.  183 


CHAPTER    VII. 

THE     USURER. 

RETURNING  home  that  afternoon,  after  my  first  day's  trial, 
Alice  ran  to  open  the  door. 

"  How  much  have  you  made,  papa  ?"  she  exclaimed,  in  a 
confident  tone. 

I  kissed  her,  and  answered  cheerfully  as  possible  :  "  I  de 
clare,  Alice,  one  would  think  it  was  little  Anna  talking,  in 
stead  of  a  grown-up  girl.  Patience  :  it  Avill  take  a  week  or 
two  at  least  for  me  to  get  to  work,  and  then  you  may  expect 
to  hear  something." 

"  What  a  goose  I  am !  I  ought  to  have  known  that. 
But  we  have  been  talking  so  much  about  Wall-street  that  I 
suppose  I  was  calculating  on  your  picking  up  money  there. 
Never  mind,  the  best  dinner  you  have  had  for  a  long  time 
is  ready  this  minute.  It  is  in  honor  of  your  commencing 
business  again.  Ah  !  papa,  how  happy  I  am !"  and  hum 
ming  a  favorite  air,  she  pushed  me  into  the  room,  where  I 
was  seized  by  the  two  younger  children,  and  dragged  to  the 
table.  My  felicity  at  that  moment  wras  supreme.  I  was; 
honestly  grateful  to  God  wrho  had  so  ordained  it,  that  the 
wealth  of  the  heart,  like  the  riches  of  free  grace,  is  open  to 
all  who  choose  to  cultivate  the  treasure. 

What  binds  us  to  our  children ;  what  binds  them  so  to 


184  UNDERCURRENTS 

us  ?  It  is,  aside  from  instinctive  attachment,  which  amounts 
to  but  little,  because  we  regard  each  other  always  and  inva 
riably  in  the  strong  light  of  affection,  which  makes  us  alive 
to  whatever  is  pleasing,  and  good,  and  charitable  toward 
anything  which  is  the  reverse  in  our  conduct  or  dispositions. 
]SToWj  could  this  be  extended  outside  the  circle  of  our  homes, 
what  a  change  would  come  over  the  form  and  habit  of  this 
old  world !  It  would  not  be  a  bad  state  of  things,  would 
it,  where  every  man  regards  his  neighbor  with  kindness  and 
good-will;  always  recognizing  what  is  good  in  him,  and 
always  considerate  toward  what  is  reprehensible  ?  Would 
it  not  seem  strange  to  see  everybody  turning  short  about, 
and  trying  to  help  everybody  in  every  possible  way  ?  De- 
lane  says  it  would'nt  pay,  but  Delane  is  mistaken;  it  would 
pay  in  the  long  run,  but  selfish  people  can't  be  made  to  un 
derstand  it. 

I  soon  found  myself  beset  with  a  crowd  of  the  smallest 
kind  of  note-brokers,  or  rather  of  runners,  if  I  may  use  the 
term,  who,  believing  that  I  could  command  more  or  less 
cash,  attempted  to  palm  off  on  me  all  sorts  of  worthless 
paper.  Most  of  my  readers  are  doubtless  entirely  ignorant 
of  the  various  expedients  employed  to  raise  the  wind,  as  it 
is  called,  by  the  unscrupulous  and  the  desperate.  Fre 
quently,  where  a  sale  would  be  impossible,  they  attempt  to 
borrow  a  comparatively  small  sum  on  a  large  amount  of 
notes,  or  acceptances ;  the  lender,  unless  very  shrewd  and 
experienced,  being  seduced  by  the  great  margin  into  the 
belief  that  the  loan  will  certainly  be  taken  up,  and  his  heavy 
"  shave"  secured.  But  the  auspicious  day  never  arrives. 


OF      WALL-STREET.  185 

The  operator  having  borrowed  three  or  four  hundred  dol 
lars  on  as  many  thousands  of  "  collaterals,"  takes  no  further 
trouble  about  the  loan,  but  immediately  procures  a  fresh  sup 
ply  of  "  paper,"  for  the  signatures  cost  him  nothing,  being 
executed  perhaps  by  some  relation  who  is  "  under  age,"  or 
some  mythical  personage  so  obscure  that  he  may  with  im 
punity  defy  civil  process. 

Finding  after  repeated  efforts  that  nothing  was  to  be 
made  out  of  me,  these  people  let  me  alone.  Meanwhile  I 
had  myself  something  to  do  besides  beating  off  applicants 
for  my  supposed  capital.  I  found  after  considerable  obser 
vation,  that  what  is  called  first  and  second  class  paper  is 
readily  disposed  of  at  a  current  rate,  while  lower  grades  are 
difficult  to  negotiate,  and  depend  on  the  brokers  finding 
some  person  who  happens  to  know  the  parties,  and  is  satis 
fied  of  their  position.  There  are,  however,  individuals  in 
Wall-street  who  seldom  purchase  any  thing  better  than 
third-class  paper,  taking  pains  to  inform  themselves  specially 
about  it.  Such  invariably  charge  two  per  cent,  a  month, 
and  from  that  up,  and  thus  accumulate  large  fortunes. 

It  may  seem  strange  to  you,  reader,  but  it  is  nevertheless 
true,  that  there  are  men  who  spend  their  whole  lives  in 
Wall-street,  and  who  do  nothing  else  but  buy  notes.  They 
come  in  early  and  go  out  late.  Their  time  is  occupied  in 
making  fresh  inquiries,  and  in  haggling  about  the  rate  per 
cent.  You  can  to-day  see  these  persons,  if  you  will  take 
the  trouble,  to  station  yourself  on  the  spot,  and  I  predict 
you  will  behold  what  will  deeply  interest  you.  Wait  a  few 
moments  near  this  corner,  and  you  will  not  be  disappointed. 
There  he  comes,  passing  thoughtfully  along  the  street.  lie 


186  UNDERCURRENTS 

has  the  appearance  of  a  man  laden  with  many  cares.  Look 
at  him !  He  is  respectably  encased  in  a  moderately  worn 
suit  of  black.  His  head  inclines  forward ;  his  eye  has  be 
come  stony ;  his  nose  pointed ;  his  chin  angular ;  his  cheeks 
rigid ;  his  lips  wooden  ;  his  mind — alas !  he  has  no  longer 
any  mind,  but  in  place  of  mind  he  possesses  an  instinct  so 
subtle  and  acute  that  it  will  detect  a  piece  of  "  made"  paper 
in  the  very  curl  of  the  signature.  As  to  his  soul — ah! 
GOD,  how  rayless  and  emotionless  it  is ! 

Go  to  this  man  with  something  which  does  not  exactly 
suit  him,  he  will  catechize  you  half  an  hour,  putting  questions 
which  nothing  but  a  great  hope  of  ultimate  success  induces 
you  to  tolerate,  when,  just  as  you  are  expecting  a  check  for 
the  desired  amount,  he  tells  you  quietly  he  does  not  want 
the  paper.  This  person  sympathizes  with  no  human  being. 
He  has  not  a  single  human  attribute  left.  "  Does  he  never," 
you  ask,  u  in  some  silent,  solitary  moment,  perchance  during 
some  wakeful  hour  by  night ;  does  he  never  think  of  the 
time  when  he  was  a  child,  and  learned  to  lisp  his  prayers, 
and  repeat  his  little  hymns  ;  or  later  when  he  was  at  school, 
playing  as  other  boys  play ;  or  when  he  married  that  tender 
young  girl,  to  whom  he  promised  so  much  before  heaven, 
and  whom  he  has  since  killed  by  his  hard,  stony  nature  ?" 
No ;  he  never  does !  Such  terrible  compensation  does 
PROVIDENCE  exact  from  this  entire  surrender  to  mammon. 

If  you  wish  to  see  more  of  this  sort,  go  and  take  a  seat 
for  an  hour  or  two  in  one  of  the  many  small  note-brokers' 
offices,  which  abound,  and  watch  the  arrival  of  others  of 
these  paper-sharks.  They  come  in  hungry,  eager,  sharp,  to 
hear  and  see  what  new  offers.  They  have  a  large  capital, 


OF      W  ALL-  STREET  .  187 

perhaps  hundreds  of  thousands  of  dollars,  invested  in  notes, 
or  represented  by  securities,  which  can  be  converted  into 
cash  in  twenty-four  hours,  should  it  be  required  to  buy  more 
paper  with.  They  are  always  mousing  about  to  pick  up  the 
note  of  some  good  mechanic,  who  they  know  for  certain 
reasons  is  hard-up,  and  who  is  willing  to  bleed  freely  rather 
than  to  fail  in  a  contract.  Thus  they  drain  the  life-blood 
of  the  industrious  ;  and  compounding  their  profits  day  after 
day,  they  work  at  their  disreputable  business  till  Death, 
who  always  wins  in  the  end,  overtakes  them,  and  they  are 
cut  short  in  their  cold-blooded  and  wicked  work. 

I  am  of  opinion  that  money  should  command,  like  any 
other  commodity,  its  market  value,  yet  it  is  unlike  any 
other  ;  since  it  is  the  standard  of  value  of  all  commodities, 
and  cannot  be  the  subject  of  sale,  but  only  of  hire  ;  and 
the  rules  which  control  it  depend  on  many  contingencies, 
which  prove  unfortunate  for  the  borrower.  But  it  is  not 
market  value  which  the  note-shaver  takes  advantage  of. 
He  detests  a  market.  It  interferes  with  his  plans.  For  he 
speculates  not  out  of  the  risk  he  runs,  but  out  of  his  custo 
mers'  necessities.  It  is  an  undeniable  fact,  the  man  who 
drives  the  trade  of  usurer  has  been  branded  as  ignominious 
from  the  earliest  history  of  civilized  transactions  to  the 
present  time.*  There  is  no  occupation  which  so  darkens 
the  soul,  blunts  the  affections,  shuts  out  all  that  is  human, 
and  retains  all  that  is  selfish  and  devilish,  as  that  of  the 
man  who  devotes  himself  to  accumulating  by  usurious 
I  speak  from  what  I  have  seen  and  known. 


*  "  He  that  by  usury  and  unjust  train  increaseth  his  substance,  he  shall  gather  it  for 
him  that  will  pity  the  poor."—  Proverb*  xxviii.,  S. 


188  UNDERCURRENTS 

Pursuing  my  inquiries,  I  found  it  was  the  habit  of  many 
of  our  best  merchants,  whenever  they  had  more  money  on 
hand  than  they  had  occasion  for,  to  buy  first-class  paper  as 
an  investment ;  such  merchants  generally  made  their  pur 
chases  through  one  broker,  who  regarded  them  as  his  con 
stituents.  Then  there  were  capitalists  who  usually  invested 
in  stocks,  or  bonds  and  mortgages,  yet  who  from  time  to 
time,  as  favorable  opportunities  presented,  made  large  pur 
chases  of  commercial  paper.  The  banks  too  in  easy  seasons 
were  bidders.  But  between  the  better  grades  of  paper  and 
the  poorer  a  great  gulf  is  fixed.  The  first,  as  I  have  said, 
goes  at  market  value ;  the  latter  having  no  market  value, 
affords  rare  chances  for  cut-throat  rates. 


OF      WALL-STKEET.  189 


CHAPTER    VIII. 

AN  UNLOCKED  FOB  OCCURRENCE. 

SUCH,  then,  was  the  sea  on  which  I  was  to  adventure ; 
and  Saturday  morning,  which  would  complete  my  first 
week  in  the  street,  found  me  without  having  made  a  single 
negotiation,  or  having  earned  a  single  dollar.  During  this 
week  I  had  had  no  conversation  with  Sol  Downer.  It  is 
true  I  met  him  several  times,  but  I  thought  lie  rather  avoid 
ed  me.  At  any  rate,  I  did  not  feel  inclined  to  cultivate  a 
greater  intimacy  with  him,  and  perhaps  he  perceived  it. 

On  this  Saturday  morning,  coming  into  my  office  a  little 
past  eleven  o'clock,  after  a  few  moments'  absence,  I  found 
him  standing  in  the  centre  of  the  room,  as  if  impatient  for 
my  return.  I  don't  know  why,  but  I  was  annoyed  at  the 
sight  of  him.  Perhaps  I  remembered  our  last  conversation, 
and  thought  of  my  ill-success  during  the  week.  Perhaps  I 
had  formed  some  inchoate  resolution  to  rather  avoid  Dow 
ner  as  an  unlucky  associate.  Whatever  it  was,  I  repeat,  I 
was  annoyed  at  seeing  him  stand  there,  and  I  believe  my 
countenance  showed  it.  If  it  did,  Solomon  Downer  took 
no  notice  of  it,  but  approached  me  hurriedly  as  I  entered, 
and  placing  a  note  in  my  hand,  exclaimed :  "  Take  that 
over  to  the  Bank  of  Credit ;  they'll  do  it  for  you,  and  we 
will  divide  the  commission." 

I  looked  at  the  note,  and  found  it  was  for  over  four  thou- 


190  UNDEBCUKREXTS 

sand  dollars.     The  makers  I  did  not  know,  although  I  rec 
ognized  the  endorsers  as  highly  respectable. 

"  Why  do  you  hesitate  ?"  said  Downer,  who  saw  I  made 
no  haste  to  carry  out  his  suggestion. 

"  I  do  not  know  the  paper,"  was  my  reply,  "  and — 

"  Supposing  you  don't,"  said  my  visitor  impatiently, 
"  what  the  devil  has  that  to  do  with  it  if  the  bank  does 
know  it  ?" 

I  suppose  I  colored  at  this  rough  answer,  for  Downer  in 
stantly  added  in  a  milder  tone :  "  For  heaven's  oake  make 
haste,  Parkinson.  I  must  make  a  little  money  to-day.  I 
can  keep  this  note  just  fifteen  minutes  and  no  longer.  I 
know  that  the  Bank  of  Credit  has  plenty  of  money.  I 
know  too  that  this  is  just  such  paper  as  they  want.  It  is 
offered  at  seven  per  cent,  and  a  quarter  per  cent,  commis 
sion.  That's  but  a  trifle,  but  it's  quick  done." 

By  this  time  I  fully  understood  the  matter,  and  turning, 
started  off  immediately  for  the  bank.  Downer  ran  after 
me,  and  called  out,  as  I  got  near  the  stairs  :  "  Try  them  at 
six  per  cent;  that's  all  money's  worth,  and  this  is  A  1,  and 
no  mistake." 

I  walked  rapidly  along  toward  the  bank,  not  quite  satis 
fied  I  was  going  on  a  successful  errand,  since  I  was  not  ac 
quainted  with  the  names  of  the  makers  of  the  note,  yet 
having  a  sort  of  confidence  in  the  unqualified  assertion  of 
Downer.  The  president  was  fortunately  in,  I  handed  him 
the  little  "piece  of  paper,"  saying,  I  believed  it  would 
be  acceptable.  He  looked  at  it,  turned  it  over  to  reiram 
the  endorsement,  and  said  quietly :  "  We  will  pass  this  for 
you,  Mr.  Parkinson." 


OP      WALL-STREET.  191 

"At  six  per  cent.?" 

"  We  will  say  six  and  a  half." 

Thereupon  he  rose,  and  stepped  to  the  discount-clerk, 
said  a  word  to  him,  came  back,  remarking,  "  He  will  tell 
you  the  amount  in  a  few  moments,"  and  resumed  his  occu 
pation,  while  I  went  round  to  the  clerk's  counter  to  wait 
for  the  computation. 

We  are  weak  creatures.  I  cannot  describe  the  almost 
delirious  happiness  of  that  moment.  The  gratitude  I  felt 
toward  the  president  was  extravagant,  unbounded.  In 
truth,  however,  I  had  conferred  a  favor  on  the  bank,  as 
well  as  receiving  one  myself,  by  taking  them  a  prime  note 
when  they  had  idle  surplus  funds.  But  I  was  too  much 
elated  to  look  at  the  affair  in  that  light.  I  flattered  myself 
that  something  of  my  old  influence  was  left ;  at  any  rate, 
that  the  president  regarded  me  with  especial  favor  and 
kindness.  I  ought  to  have  remembered  that  when  money  is 
abundant  the  faces  of  bank  officers  are  wreathed  in  smiles, 
and  they  seem  to  be  your  fast  friends  forever-and-a-day. 
But  when  money  is  in  demand,  wonderful  is  their  altered 
demeanor  ;  strange  how  they  forget  you. 

In  ten  minutes  I  was  on  my  way  back,  with  the  money 
in  my  hand.  T  found  Downer  pacing  up  and  down  the 
room  in  a  state  of  great  excitement. 

"  Have  you  got  it  ?"  he  exclaimed. 

"Yes." 

"  Good  GOD  !  you  don't  say  so  ;  but  I  knew  they  would 
jump  at  it.  -Here,  just  give  me  the  amount,  less  discount 
and  commission.  I  have  calculated  it  while  you  were  <n>m>, 
and  I  will  come  back  presently,  and  we  can  then  divide." 


192  UNDE  EC  U  R  RE  NTS 

Thereupon  I  handed  him  the  required  sum,  and  he  ran  oft' 
at  great  speed. 

Meanwhile,  I  sat  down  to  count  the  treasure  in  hand,  and 
which  on  Downer's  return  we  were  to  share.  How  much 
larger  this  looked  than  the  four  thousand  four  hundred  dol 
lars,  which  I  had  surrendered  !  The  quarter  per  cent,  com 
mission  amounted  to  eleven  dollars  and  ten  cents.  It  was  a 
four  months  note,  and  the  difference  between  seven  and  six 
and  a  half  per  cent,  was  seven  dollars  and  forty  cents.  To 
tal,  eighteen  dollars  and  fifty  cents.  My  half,  nine  dollars 
and  a  quarter. 

I  was  in  the  midst  of  this  pleasing  computation  when  Sol 
Downer  returned,  still  much  excited,  with  the  appearance 
of  a  man  who  had  ventured  on  a  great  risk,  and  had  had  a 
narrow  escape.  I  could  not  help  feeling  that  there  was 
some  mystery  about  the  aifair.  Considering  poor  Downer's 
unfortunate  reputation,  how  did  he  come  by  a  first-class 
note,  one  which  any  banker  would  be  ready  to  take  ?  Who 
would  employ  him  on  such  a  service  ?  These  thoughts 
were  passing  through  my  mind  while  I  was  busy  ascertain 
ing  the  profits  of  the  transaction,  and  which  his  return  in 
terrupted,  as  I  have  just  observed.  He  came  in,  sat  down, 
took  off  his  hat,  and  with  his  handkerchief  wiped  away  the 
perspiration  which  stood  thick  on  his  forehead. 

"I  wonder  what  that  famous  house  would  say  if  they 
knew  I  had  negotiated  one  of  their  notes?  and  he  laughed 
significantly. 

I  made  no  reply. 

"  Wouldn't  you  like  to  know  how  I  got  hold  of  it  ?"  he 
asked. 


OF      WALL- STREET.  193 

"  Yes." 

"  Well,  I  had  got  desperate.  It  was  Saturday,  and  I 
must  take  home  four  or  five  dollars,  so  I  went  in  to  Brest 
and  Company's,  and  asked  them  if  they  had  any  big  notes 
of  A  1  houses,  as  I  knew  an  individual  who  would  like  to 
invest  four  or  five  thousand  dollars.  I  saw  the  list,  and  a 
young  man  who  stood  by  gave  me  permission  to  look  over 
the  paper.  I  asked  the  best  rate  for  the  note  I  brought 
you,  for  I  knew  the  Bank  of  Credit  would  discount  it  if 
offered  by  a  respectable  party,  and  found  I  could  get  a 
quarter  per  cent,  out  of  it,  besides  legal  interest.  I  told 
the  young  man  I  would  return  in  fifteen  minutes  with  the 
money,  and  to  tell  you  the  truth,  Parkinson,  I  brought 
away  the  note  without  his  knowing  it." 

"  Good  Heavens  !  it  is  not  possible." 

"  Oh !  it  is  very  possible,  and  when  you  come  to  be 
driven  from  one  corner  to  another,  you  will  be  surprised 
what  expedients  you  will  resort  to,  to  keep  from  starving. 
Yes,  a  man  will  venture  a  good  deal  before  he  will  let — 
women  and  children  go  hungry" 

"  But  finish  your  story." 

"  Certainly.  You  know  what  took  place  with  you.  We 
did  make  first-rate  work  of  it.  I  was  absent  from  Brest 
and  Company's  just  twenty  minutes.  Wasn't  there  a  storm 
brewing  up  there  ?  Fortunately  they  had  discovered  the 
note  was  missing  only  five  minutes  before.  Every  thing 
was  in  confusion.  Of  course  I  was  the  vagabond  who  had 
abstracted  it.  The  young  man  was  saying  he  gave  me  no 
permission  even  to  look  at  the  paper ;  only  at  the  list. 
Another  minute  a  police-officer  would  have  been  on  my 


194  UNDERCURRENTS 

track.  I  stepped  coolly  in  with  the  money  in  my  hand. 
Cash  has  a  soothing  influence.  I  inarched  up  boldly  to  the 
desk  of  the  principal.  '  I  promised,'  said  I,  '  to  return  in 
fifteen  minutes.  I  am  five  minutes  behind  my  time.  Here 
is  a  statement  of  the  discount  and  commission  (I  had  pre 
pared  it  while  you  were  at  the  bank,  you  know),  and  here 
is  the  money.'  Old  Brest  is  too  shrewd  a  man  to  get  up  a 
row  when  there  is  nothing  to  quarrel  about,  and  no  harm 
done.  So,  without  saying  one  word,  he  took  the  money 
and  the  statement,  compared  the  latter  with  his  own  mem 
orandum,  and  after  two  or  three  minutes  growled  out,  '  All 
right,'  and  I  quit.  Close  shaving  though ;  wouldn't  like  to 
try  it  again." 

"  But  tell  me  why  did  you  do  such  a  thing  ?  You  com 
mitted  a  criminal  act." 

"Ay!  that's  the  talk,"  exclaimed  Downer,  " of  you  re 
spectable  people.  Criminal  offence !  Do  you  suppose,  had 
I  missed  seeing  you,  I  would  have  failed  to  run  back 
with  the  note?  And  having  got  the  money,  did  I  not 
hasten  to  hand  it  over  ?  Wait  a  little,  and  see  if  you  will 
tread  always  on  velvet  scruples.  Don't  I  know  Old  Brest  ? 
Don't  I  know  how  he  made  a  smash-up  ten  years  ago,  and 
how  he  got  started  in  this  business,  in  which  he's  coining 
money  ?  Oh !  yes,  it's  all  correct  with  him,  but  I  am  a 
damned  scoundrel,  of  course." 

I  saw  that  Downer  was  getting  into  his  old  strain  of  bit 
terness,  and  I  endeavored  to  say  what  would  soothe  him. 
In  this  I  partially  succeeded.  And  then  I  showed  him  the 
exact  amount  I  had,  and  handed  him  nine  dollars  and  a 
quarter  as  his  share.  Sol  Downer  would  not  take  it. 


OF      WALL-STREET.  195 

"  What  I  want,"  he  said,  "is  five  dollars  and  fifty-five 
cents.  I  have  nothing  to  do  with  what  you  have  made  by 
getting  the  note  done  at  a  better  rate.  My  offer  was,  dis 
count  at  seven  per  cent,  and  divide  commission  with  you. 
Won't  take  it,"  he  persisted.  "  This  serves  me  for  to-day. 
If  it  didn't,  I  would  not  mind,  under  the  circumstances,  bor 
rowing  a  couple  of  dollars  of  you."  So  saying,  he  left  the 
room,  leaving  the  balance  of  the  money  on  the  table. 

In  this  way  my  share  was  increased  to  twelve  dollars  and 
ninety-five  cents.  How  good  it  looked  as  I  counted  it  over 
and  over.  Reader,  do  you  think  I  was  beside  myself?  I, 
who  all  my  business  life  was  dealing  in  thousands  and  tens 
of  thousands,  yes,  hundreds  of  thousands,  to  be  thus  carried 
away  by  the  sight  of  twelve  dollars  and  ninety-five  cents  in 
hand?  If  you  do  you  know  little  of  the  "uses  of  adver 
sity." 

Never  did  money  seem  so  sweet  as  that.  I  had  earned 
it — the  very  first  gains  since  my  great  break-down.  In 
former  business  operations,  when  I  made  large  profits, 
they  went  into  the  general  account,  and  were,  to  be  sure,  so 
much  to  the  credit  of  our  concern.  But  this  twelve  dollars 
and  ninety-five  cents  I  could  touch,  I  could  handle.  I  could 
calculate  what  it  would  pay,  how  far  it  would  go.  I  thought 
how  pleased  Alice  would  be— for  she  had  delicately  for 
borne  to  question  me  after  that  first  day  when  I  led  her 
not  to  expect  any  thing  for  a  week  or  two.  Then  my 
thoughts  ran  back  to  the  operation  of  the  morning.  It 
struck  me  it  would  be  dangerous  to  have  any  more  business 
with  Downer.  Yet  hid  it  not  been  for  him  I  should  not 
now  be  rejoicing.  Had  he  not  acted  honorably,  nay,  gen- 


196  UND  EKCTJK  K  E  XTS 

erously  with  me  ?     Was  not  his  condition  rather  that  of  an 
unfortunate  wretch  at  bay,  with  the  odds  against  him  ? 

After  a  while  I  took  my  hat,  went  into  the  street,  and 
talked  pleasantly  with  several  acquaintances  about  affairs. 
Then  I  walked  back  to  my  office,  ate  the  lunch  which  Alice 
always  prepared  for  me,  and  determined  to  give  myself  a 
holiday  for  the  remainder  of  the  afternoon.  Descending,  I 
indulged  in  a  glass  of  ale.  I  purchased  a  few  figs  for  Charlie, 
some  raisins  for  Anna,  and  a  bunch  of  grapes  to  "  divide." 
For  Alice  I  bought  a  pair  of  small  side-combs,  which  I  knew 
she  wanted  very  much.  Thus  equipped,  I  turned  into  Broad 
way,  and  joined  the  crowd  of  human  beings  which  throng 
this  extraordinary  thoroughfare.  It  has  since  occurred  to 
me  how  entirely  we  are  carried  away  with  what  is  imme 
diately  present.  The  fortunate  circumstance  of  making  a 
small  sum  after  a  week  of  fruitless  exertion,  seemed  for  the 
moment  to  dispel  all  anxiety  for  the  future.  I  felt  very 
comfortable,  and  returned  the  salutations  of  my  acquaint 
ances  with  a  feeling  of  quiet  assurance.  Thus  I  strolled 
along  until  I  came  opposite  my  old  house.  I  stopped  and 
looked  at  it  a  moment,  and  went  on.  I  had  triumphed.  I 
had  no  regrets.  I  felt  in  iny  soul  that  what  I  had  passed 
through,  and  what  I  was  to  encounter  in  the  future,  would 
give  to  me  a  moral  strength,  and  truer  ideas  of  life  and  its 
purposes.  So  I  went  away  from  the  spot  where  I  had  en 
joyed  so  much  of  this  world's  good,  and  continuing  my 
walk,  at  length  turned  the  corner  near  my  house.  The  two 
younger  children  were  playing  on  the  steps,  there  being  no 
school  on  Saturday.  They  ran  joyfully  to  greet  my  unex 
pected  arrival.  Going  in,  I  summoned  Alice,  who  was 


OP      WALL-STREET.  197 

assisting  in  preparation  for  the  dinner.  Sitting  down  near 
the  table,  I  produced  ray  little  store.  "  Papa  has  treated 
himself,"  I  said,  "  to  a  part  of  a  holiday,  and  there  is  some 
thing  to  show  that  he  has  not  forgotten  the  children."  Alice 
received  the  combs  as  a  token  of  good  fortune,  the  rest 
went  quietly  to  work  with  the  fruit. 

"  You  have  made  some  money,  I  know  you  have  by  your 
looks,  papa ;  and  it's  only  a  week !" 


198  UNDERCURRENTS 


CHAPTER    IX. 

THE     ACTUAL. 

THOSE  who,  attracted  by  the  title  of  these  papers,  have 
taken  them  up  with  the  expectation  of  reading  "  startling 
developments,"  •'  wonderful  disclosures,"  "  remarkable  con 
fessions,"  or  fancied  in  the  various  descriptions  they  would 
be  able  to  see  through  the  gauze  covering  which  should 
lightly  mask  a  battery  of  satire  upon  certain  notabilities  of 
various  grades,  have  ere  this  laid  the  undercurrents  aside, 
disappointed,  and  probably  in  disgust.  For,  in  presenting  a 
narrative  of  some  periods  of  my  life,  I  have  no  animosity  to 
gratify,  no  Avounded  pride  to  revenge,  no  shaft  of  ridicule 
to  launch,  and  indeed  nothing  but  the  simple  truth  to  record. 
Whoever  shall  recognize  me  through  the  name  I  have  as 
sumed,  and  happen  to  recall  any  of  the  incidents  I  now 
publish,  will  bear  witness  that  I  write  with  no  malice  and 
without  exaggeration.  We  are  all  jogging  along  together. 
The  various  circumstances  which  now  serve  for  daily  excite 
ment  will  soon  pass  and  be  forgotten ;  but  the  relations  of 
one  man  to  another,  and  of  one  set  of  men  to  another  set  of 
men,  extend  through  generations,  affecting  our  whole  social 
life.  What  we  want  now,  it  seems  to  me,  is  to  be  intro 
duced  to  the  actual.  What  lies  as  substratum  ?  What  is 
the  original  necessity,  and  what  the  conventional?  The 


OF      WALL- STREET.  199 

various  classes  of  mankind  are  all  occupied.  What  are  they 
about  ?  To  find  out  is  the  present  fascination. 

One  man  drives  to  his  office  in  Wall-street  in  a  handsomo 
carriage.  How  did  he  get  that  carriage,  or  rather,  how  was 
the  money  acquired  that  paid  for  it?  He  spends  a  few 
hours  there,  signs  his  name  to  several  bits  of  paper,  which 
put  in  motion  various  pieces  of  machinery,  which  produce 
for  him  certain  valuable  results.  Satisfied  with  these  results, 
and  very  complacent  with  the  day's  operation,  he  goes  back 
to  his  house,  dines  sumptuously,  drinks  his  wine,  smokes  his 
cigars,  attends  the  opera ;  and  this  is  the  history  of  that 
man's  life,  from  one  year  to  another,  and  the  man  himself  is 
one  of  a  species. 

Another  trudges  to  Wall-street  a  poor,  unfortunate  wretch 
with  a  family,  in  circumstances  the  most  straitened.  He 
is  a  better  educated  man  than  the  first,  has  a  more  cultivated 
taste,  is  honester — worth  more  for  soul  and  brain  anywhere. 
Standing  side  by  side  before  GOD,  this  is  so.  Looking  at 
both,  away  from  so  dread  a  tribunal,  we  see  one  clad  in  gar 
ments  originally  expensive,  but  carefully  brushed  till  they 
are  threadbare.  We  behold  a  face  exhibiting  traces  of  much 
mental  suffering.  We  observe  in  the  lines  which  mark  it  evi 
dences  of  the  struggles  of  the  man  as  he  resisted,  step  by  step, 
the  fate  which  was  in  store  for  him.  We  all  remember  the 
story  of  the  prisoner  who  fancied  one  morning,  as  he  awoke, 
that  the  walls  of  the  lofty  apartment  in  which  he  was  con 
fined  did  not  seem  as  high  as  usual.  Regarding  the  number 
of  apertures  in  his  grated  window,  he  discovered  the  next 
morning  one  less.  Another  had  disappeared  the  following 
day,  and  while  he  was  reflecting  on  the  singular  circum- 


200  UNDERCURRENTS 

stance,  the  terrible  truth  burst  on  him,  that  by  the  slow  but 
sure  action  of  the  machinery  which  controlled  the  movable 
iron  ceiling,  he  was  to  meet  his  death.  Day  by  day  it  de 
scended  nearer  and  nearer.  There  was  no  escape — no  hope 
of  an  escape.  The  man  we  are  looking  at  is  in  the  same 
sort  of  prison-house.  His  fate  is  just  as  certain,  the  ma 
chinery  which  is  to  crush  him  just  as  effectual.  And  he 
knows  it.  That  is  the  meaning  of  those  lines  over  the  coun 
tenance  and  that  despairing  expression. 

But  the  other  man  ?  The  man  who  signs  bits  of  papers, 
who  moves  fortunes  by  the  employment  of  his  name  ;  whose 
face,  without  any  lines  of  care  or  disappointment,  shows 
that  he  is  at  ease  in  Bank  as  well  as  in  Zion  ?  This  pei  son, 
by  a  long  and  successful  career  of  good  fortune,  is  so  well 
grounded  in  his  own  esteem,  that  his  self-complacency  is  at 
times  painful  to  witness.  How  patronizing  he  is,  how  jo 
cose,  how  pleasingly  familiar,  how  hard  and  overbearing, 
as  by  turns  he  comes  in  contact  with  different  classes  and 
conditions !  What  does  such  a  man  understand  about  the 
great  objects  and  purposes  of  life  ?  What  have  his  opera 
tions  in  the  stock-market,  his  transactions  in  bills  of  ex 
change,  his  advances  on  good  security,  taught  him  about  the 
first  question  in  the  catechism :  "  What  is  the  chief  end  of 
man  ?"  By  the  light  he  lives  and  works  by,  how  would  he 
answer  it  ? 

Now  let  us  have  an  introduction  to  these  people  with  for 
tunes  and  habits  so  different.  Put  the  novelists  and  romance- 
writers  aside.  We  do  not  want  any  hot-house  developments, 
any  big,  horrid  villains,  any  sweet,  charming  bread-and- 
butter  saints.  Away  with  caricatures  and  exaggerations  ! 


OF      WALL-STREET.  201 

Let  us  look  at  Harris  and  Williams,  and  Brown  and  Johnson, 
and  Jones  and  Smith,  and  see  what  they  do ;  how,  as  types 
of  their  class,  they  get  a  living.  For  the  fellow  who  works 
with  those  aforesaid  pieces  of  paper  claims  in  a  sense  to  get 
a  living,  to  make  money,  whereby  he  lives  and  pays  for 
houses  and  horses  and  opera-boxes,  and  his — pleasures. 

These  investigations  will  serve  to  bring  the  fortunate  and 
the  unfortunate  nearer  each  other ;  as  it  is,  there  is  a  great 
abyss  between  them.  If  we  could  bridge  it  over  and  mix 
them  up  a  little,  it  would  not  do  any  harm.  It  might  do 
some  good.  After  these  "  Undercurrents"  of  mine  are  con 
cluded,  I  propose  to  present  a  volume  to  several  of  our  well- 
known  philanthropists :  that  class  of  philanthropists  who, 
born  with  a  silver  spoon  in  their  mouth,  and  without  much 
masculinity,  and  having  been  educated  by  good  pious  parents 
and  left  with  large  fortunes,  are  persuaded  they  have  a  mis 
sion  to  perform  here  below  before  they  are  translated  into 
heaven.  These  distinguished  persons  are  life-members  of 
the  Bible  Society,  the  Home  Missionary  Society,  the  Foreign 
Missionary  Society,  the  Tract  Society,  and  the  Colonization 
Society.  They  preside  at  meetings,  they  head  subscription- 
lists,  they  occupy  prominent  positions  in  the  church ;  and, 
notwithstanding  these  important  engagements,  they  do  not 
know  what  to  do  with  their  time  or  their  money.  They  are 
moral,  and  wont  spend  either  in  the  pleasures  of  this  life, 
for  this  sort  of  things  don't  suit  their  temperament.  So 
they  take  to  courses  more  sedate,  arid  which  will  give  them 
an  enviable  prominence  before  the  world. 

Now,  as  I  have  just  said,  I  intend  to  attempt  to  interest 
these  worthy  people  in  the  situation  of  Wall-street.      I  am 
9* 


202  UNDERCURRENTS 

persuaded  they  can  do  more  there  than  with  the  Five  Points 
Mission.  Why  will  they  not  try  ?  Perhaps  they  will. 

Again,  a  very  genuine  philanthropist  as  I  believe,  Mr. 
Horace  Greeley,  has  made  public  his  plan,  and  a  good  one 
it  is,  for  the  relief  of  the  overcrowded  streets  of  New 
York.  ''Flee  from  the  city,"  he  exclaims.  "Go  to  the 
country.  Return  to  first  principles.  Cultivate  the  soil." 
But  how  to  do  it  ?  Grant  that  it  was  an  unwise  step  that 
fixed  the  individual  in  the  city,  how  is  he  to  escape  now  ? 
Of  what  use  to  tell  the  sufferer,  who  has  a  family  depen 
dent  on  him,  and  who  barely  manages  to  keep  them  alive : 
"  Friend,  leave  this  place  ;  you  are  not  working  out  your 
proper  destiny  here.  Go  into  the  rural  districts ;  to  the  far 
West,  if  you  prefer,  where  lands  are  cheap,  and  begin  anew." 
Why,  this  man  can  by  no  possibility  get  five  dollars  ahead. 
His  furniture  would  not  bring  at  auction  two  hundred,  and 
it  is  mortgaged  besides  to  some  kind  friend  who  lent  him 
money  in  a  pressing  emergency.  I  repeat,  this  man  is 
chained  down,  held  fast ;  he  can't  escape,  and  Mr.  Greeley's 
plan  don't  help  him. 

We  once  read  of  a  banker's  safe  so  cunningly  contrived, 
that  when  a  burglar  attempts  the  lock,  he  disturbs  a  secret 
spring,  and  suddenly  iron  arms  are  protruded,  which  clutch 
the  terrified  wretch,  and  hold  him  in  a  fatal  embrace.  It  is 
so  with  the  miserable  man  who  ventures  to  tamper  with  that 
great  money-safe — Wall-street.  He  is  seized  and  held  secure, 
and  sentenced  to  perpetual  imprisonment,  with  hard  labor,  in 
the  service  of  the  proprietors.  Will  not  Mr.  Greeley  aid  in 
getting  up  a  society  for  the  relief  of  those  unfortunate  persons 
who  want  to  quit  the  spot  and  cannot  ?  For  my  part,  had 


OF      WALL-STKEET.  203 

I  a  hundred  thousand  dollars  to  dispose  of  to-day,  I  would 
select  twenty  or  thirty  sufferers,  whom  I  have  known  in  the 
street  for  twenty-five  years,  and  make  them  happy.  Some 
theoretical  individuals  would  object  to  this  because  the  pro 
posed  course  lacks  "  plan  and  system,"  and  is  not  grounded 
on  "principle."  It  would  only  do  a  few  people  a  great  good, 
but  would  confirm  no  favorite  theory,  and  would  be  carried 
out  without  the  aid  of  the  complicated  machinery  of  any 
sociotv ! 


204  UNDEKCUKEENTS 


CHAPTER    X. 

H  ARLE  Y. 

AFTER  a  while  I  began  to  get  reconciled  to  the  peculiari 
ties  of  my  Wall-street  life !  Indeed  the  excitement  of  it 
was  not  without  its  charm.  The  sharp  necessity  of  realiz 
ing  a  certain  sum,  disappointment  in  one  quarter,  success  in 
another,  the  hour's  uncertainty,  the  petty  crisis — to  me  not 
petty — repeated  day  after  day,  not  only  accustomed  me  to 
these  fluctuations,  but  they  became  in  some  sort  agreeable  ; 
that  is,  in  the  sense  that  all  stirring  sensations  are  so.  This 
was,  however,  while  I  was  achieving  a  species  of  success. 
And  I  was  thus  taught  that  there  is  rarely  an  occupation 
disagreeable  to  man  by  which  he  makes  money.  My  desires 
were  very  humble.  I  wanted  only  to  earn  a  living.  After 
a  few  weeks,  by  much  industry  and  painstaking,  I  learned 
the  condition  of  the  note-market;  and  by  the  aid  of  my 
reputation  for  strict  integrity,  I  acquired  the  confidence  of 
various  parties,  and  was  thus  enabled  frequently  to  exceed 
the  moderate  sum  necessary  for  our  support.  Meantime  I 
looked  with  feelings  of  pity  on  the  poor  wretches  wandering 
about  the  street,  eager  to  seize  on  some  chance  to  clear  a 
few  dollars. 

Since  the  operation  with  the  four  thousand  dollar  note,  I 
endeavored  quietly  to  avoid  Downer.  I  cannot  say  he  made 
any  effort  to  prevent  it.  At  any  rate,  he  never  came  again 


OF      WALL-STREET.  205 

to  my  office.  One  Saturday,  I  had  been  more  than  usually 
successful ;  I  stood  in  the  door  of  one  of  the  banks,  with  a 
roll  of  bills  in  my  hands ;  turning  around,  I  saw  Downer 
looking  at  me  from  the  corner.  He  started  off  immediately 
on  seeing  that  I  noticed  him.  My  heart  smote  me,  I  know 
not  why,  and  I  took  a  few  steps  in  his  direction,  with  a  view 
to  offer  him  a  part  of  my  store  if  he  stood  in  need  of  it ; 
but  a  selfish  prudence  overcame  the  benevolent  intent,  and 
I  stopped  short,  none  the  better  at  heart  for  not  keeping  on. 

About  this  time  I  made  a  new  acquaintance.  I  had  laid 
by,  over  and  above  the  sum  set  apart  for  our  support,  two 
hundred  and  fifty  dollars.  This  I  gave  to  Alice,  who  kept 
it  carefully  in  a  private  drawer.  The  possession  of  this  sum 
made  me  feel  like  a  different  creature.  Never  in  my  palmiest 
days  did  the  heaviest  balance  in  bank  so  exhilarate  me  as 
this  two  hundred  and  fifty  dollars.  Five  hundred  dollars 
in  the  savings  bank  for  Alice  ;  two  hundred  and  fifty  dollars 
in  her  escritoire  ;  business  good,  and  new  channels  opening. 
Besides,  that  law-suit  with  Bulldog  is  sure  to  go  in  our  favor. 
Norwood  says  so.  Well,  well,  the  world  is  not  so  bad  after 
all.  People  wrho  will  make  mistakes  must  suffer  accordingly, 
but  the  prudent 

I  was  saying,  about  this  time  I  made  a  new  acquaintance. 
It  happened  in  this  wise.  One  afternoon,  about  two  o'clock, 
while  I  was  seated  in  my  office,  after  having  made  one  or 
two  very  good  negotiations,  a  gentleman  entered,  and  ex 
hibited  a  note  for  nearly  a  thousand  dollars,  which  he  asked 
if  I  could  get  discounted.  I  recollect  the  figures  now.  They 
were  all  odd  numbers — 979TVo,  three  months  to  run.  I 
never  fancied  odd  numbers,  and  the  style  of  the  note  did 


20C  UNDERCURRENTS 

not  please  me.*  Seeing  me  hesitate,  the  person  remarked : 
"Excuse  me,  I  perceive  I  am  not  known  to  you.  My  name 
is  Harley.  Our  mutual  friend  Alworthy  (one  of  the  makers 
of  the  note)  advised  me  to  come  directly  to  you,  and  gave 
me  permission  to  use  his  name.  c  Since  the  note  is  in  the 
market,'  he  said,  '  I  recommend  you  to  my  friend  Mr.  Par 
kinson,  who  will  get  it  done  for  you  without  hawking  it 
about  the  street.' " 

I  tried  to  call  to  mind  how  intimate  my  acquaintance  was 
with  Mr.  Alworthy.  I  knew  him  as  the  senior  partner  in  an 
extensive  commission  house,  whose  transactions  were  gen 
erally  large,  and  whose  operations  were  very  bold.  There 
was  no  intimacy  between  us,  and  his  sending  to  me  seemed 
a  little  apocryphal.  Still  the  paper  would  sell,  and  why 
should  I  trouble  my  head  further  about  it  ?  I  had  two 
places  where  I  thought  I  could  dispose  of  it.  I  paused  a 
moment  to  consider  which  I  should  first  try,  and  then  inno 
cently  enough  asked  :  "Have  you  any  more  of  this?"  My 
visitor  colored,  and  for  an  instant  appeared  to  lose  the  tran 
quil  and  imperturbable  manner  which  had  hitherto  distin 
guished  him.  It  was  for  an  instant.  He  recovered  with  so 
much  ingenuousness,  and  put  himself  at  once  so  confiden 
tially  in  relation  with  me,  that  I  was  charmed  with  him. 

"  I  will  be  truthful  with  you,  sir  !"  he  exclaimed.  "  The 
fact  is,  I  have  a  pretty  large  amount  of  this  paper.  I  did 

*  There  is  a  great  difference  in  the  appearance  of  commercial  paper.  It  is  frequently 
remarked  of  a  man,  that  he  makes  a  "good  signature ;"  that  is,  a  signature  which  in 
spires  confidence.  There  are  some  who  really  judge  a  good  deal  by  the  "  looks"  of  a 
note  or  acceptance.  "  I  don't  like  it :  think  'twas  'got  up,1 "  said  an  experienced  note- 
ehaver  once  to  me,  apropos  of  a  piece  of  paper  I  ottered  him.  This  might  have  !>•  en 
mere  caprice,  but  it  was  useli  ss  opposing  it.  Again  I  know  many  who  delight  in 
li  odd  numbers,'1  who  think  there  is  u  luck"  in  them  ;  and  others  whose  fancy  runs  the 
other  way. 


OF      WALL- STREET.  207 

not  intend  to  offer  you  any  more,  however.  But  since  you 
have  inquired,  I  shall  tell  you  precisely.  You  will  perceive 
that  this  note  is  indorsed  by  Pollock,  Pemberton,  Hollis  and 
Company.  Perhaps  you  know  the  house  ?" 

I  confessed  I  did  not. 

"  Well,  that  is  not  to  be  wondered  at,  since  it  was  estab 
lished  only  last  May.  They  are  old  personal  friends  of 
mine.  Very  enterprising,  ample  capital,  and  will  do  a  very 
large  commission  business.  By  the  way,  I  should  like  you 
to  know  them ;  the  acquaintance  might  prove  mutually 
beneficial.  Such  a  house  is  always  taking  a  large  amount 
of  marketable  paper,  and  it  would  be  well  to  have  them  as 
customers ;  for  you  know  the  banks  will  only  do  about  so 
much." 

While  Mr.  Harley  was  laying  this  benevolent  plan  for  my 
advantage,  I  had  leisure  to  observe  him  more  carefully.  He 
was  apparently  thirty  years  old,  of  medium  height,  possibly 
a  little  below,  stout,  but  not  corpulent,  handsomely  dressed, 
yet  not  in  a  manner  indicating  any  special  attention.  He 
had  clear,  intelligent  blue  eyes,  a  pleasing  face,  open  and  in 
genuous,  without  any  of  that  affectation  of  sincerity  which 
one  could  detect  in  Mr.  Tremaine.  In  fact,  I  was  insensibly 
drawn  toward  the  man,  and  the  suggestions  he  was  making 
for  my  benefit  seemed  so  natural,  that  I  forgot  I  had  never 
seen  him  before,  and  now  for  only  ten  minutes. 

"  But,"  continued  Mr.  Harley,  as  if  recollecting  himself, 
"  we  were  talking  of  how  much  paper  I  could  offer  you  of  this 
description.  I  have  about  nine  thousand  dollars,  and  really, 
I  do  not  see  why  you  cannot  manage  the  whole  of  it — quiet 
ly,  you  know,  so  as  not  to  hurt  the  credit  of  the  parties," 


208  UNDERCURRENTS 

Just  then  the  question  occurred  to  me  :  "  What  interest 
or  agency  have  you,  Mr.  Haiiey,  in  this  business  ?"  I  had 
scarcely  thought  thus  much,  when  I  found  my  new  friend 
was  about  to  give  me  an  opportunity  to  touch  the  point. 

"  Yes,  I  am  sure  it  is  best  to  do  these  things  through  one 
person ;  and,  as  I  was  saying,  Alworthy  knowing  of  course 
that  a  portion  of  the  notes  must  go  in  the  market,  said : 
1  Call  on  my  friend  Parkinson.'  And  since  I  am  quite  out 
of  the  way  of  such  transactions,  I  shall  only  be  too  glad  to 
put  it  all  in  your  hands." 

"  Are  you  not  in  business  here  ?"  I  asked. 

"  Oh !  yes.  I  call  New  York  my  home  ;  my  family  resides 
here ;  but  I  am  engaged  in  some  important  enterprises, 
which  take  me  frequently  to  Europe,  so  I  am  obliged  to  be 
absent  a  good  deal.  Since  the  first  of  May  I  have  kept  my 
office  at  Pollock,  Pemberton,  Hollis  and  Company's." 

He  handed  me  his  card — James  Algernon  Harley — with 
his  business  address  at  the  aforesaid  firm  in  Water-street. 
Soon  we  entered'  into  general  conversation.  I  found  Mr. 
Harley  knew  many  of  my  old  friends  abroad,  and  could  give 
late  intelligence  of  several.  After  a  while  we  came  to  speak 
of  ourselves.  Before  I  knew  it  I  was  telling  him  something 
of  my  life,  and  then  I  listened  to  a  short  history  from  him. 
He  was  from  Boston  ;  he  knew  all  about  my  own  family  in 
Providence.  He  was  unfortunate  in  business  a  few  years 
before,  but  had  paid  all  up — a  hundred  cents  on  the  dollar 
and  interest — but  this  had  swept  him  clean.  He  came  to 
New  York  with  his  family,  a  wife  and  one  child,  and  was 
now  living  at  the  Gloria  Hotel. 

In  this  way  the  rest  of  the  business  day  was  spent.     Mr. 


OF      WALL-STREET.  209 

Harley  suddenly  started,  looked  at  his  watch,  exclaimed : 
"  I  declare  I  don't  know  what  has  become  of  the  time  ;  but 
it  is  pleasant  to  forget  affairs  once  in  a  while,  especially 
if  we  make  a  friend,  and  I  cannot  but  feel  I  have  done 
so.  I  will  call  to-morrow,  and  we  will  then  talk  further 
about  the  negotiation  of  these  notes."  Mr.  Harley  took 
leave  of  me,  and  I  proceeded  on  my  customary  route  toward 
home. 

The  interview  with  Harley  produced  a  happy  effect  on 
me.  Since  I  lost  sight  of  my  old  associates,  I  had  become 
very  solitary  in  my  habits,  confining  myself  entirely  to  the 
society  of  my  children.  I  know  it  may  seem  strange  to 
many,  that  at  my  age — past  fifty — having  spent  nearly  my 
whole  life  in  New  York,  having  made  a  great  many  ac 
quaintances,  and  I  may  say  friends,  and  enjoying  intercourse 
with  a  large  social  circle,  that  I  should  not  have  secured 
some  who  were  proof  against  adversity,  that  I  should  find 
myself  so  entirely  forsaken,  left  to  one  side — high  and  dry. 

Well,  it  may  appear  strange,  but  such  was  the  fact.  And 
now  it  strikes  me  that  I  might  refer  to  still  stranger  cases : 
instances  in  the  same  family.  [Stop  and  think  a  moment, 
reader,  and  say  if  you  are  not  yourself  familiar  with  some.] 
One  sister  marries  a  rich  man,  another  a  poor  one.  They 
live  both  in  this  very  city.  The  rich  man  is  a  banker,  and 
resides  in  one  of  the  finest  avenues.  The  poor  man  is  a 
clerk  in  the  Custom-House,  and  lives  somewhere  above 
Fiftieth-street.  I  cannot  say  those  sisters  don't  love  each 
other ;  but  they  are  so  separated  by  circumstances  that 
there  is  no  room  for  any  exhibition  of  affection.  Their  daily 
associations  and  habits  and  necessities  are  so  different,  that 


210  UNDERCURRENTS 

there  seems  to  be  no  longer  any  sympathy  between  them. 

So  they  exchange  visits  three  or  four  times  a  year  :  the  rich 
sister  sends  presents  sometimes  to  the  children  of  the  poor 
sister,  and  perhaps  to  the  sister  herself.  And  so  living  dif 
ferent  lives — ah  !  how  different — the  offspring  of  the  same 
parents,  who  sat  around  the  same  table  at  home,  attended 
the  same  schools,  played  the  same  plays,  and  shared  the 
same  bed,  became  absolutely  like  strangers,  except  that  a 
sense  of  duty  sometimes  compels  a  certain  recognition,  too 
often  sparingly  bestowed. 

And  after  all,  we  must  not  be  too  severe  with  such  cases. 
Circumstances  have  generally  more  influence  than  principle 
or  natural  affection,  and  there  are  few  who  do  not  yield  to 
their  force.  I  declare  I  never  indulged  in  any  bitterness  of 
feeling,  because  when  I  lost  my  property  I  lost  the  society 
of  those  who  still  kept  theirs.  It  was  only  when  I  was 
treated  with  contumely  or  contempt  that  my  spirit  rebelled. 
I  never  resisted  nor  questioned  the  truth  of  the  announce 
ment  :  "  Wealth  maketh  many  friends,  but  the  poor  is 
separated  from  his  neighbor."  Yes,  the  poor  is  separated 
from  his  (former)  neighbor,  but  the  poor  soon  erect  a  new 
neighborhood  among  themselves.  They  go  to  each  other  for 
sympathy,  and  they  find  it. 

I  was  remarking,  that  having  confined  myself  entirely  to 
the  society  of  my  children,  this  pleasant  conversation  with 
a  person  who  manifested  so  much  interest  in  me  had  an 
agreeable  influence,  and  served  to  bring  back  my  feelings 
into  their  natural  channel. 


OFWALL-STREE"  21 1 


CHAPTER    XI. 

AN     EXTENSIVE     OPERATION. 

I  THOUGHT  a  good  deal  about  my  affair  with  Mr.  Harley. 
The  next  morning  my  enthusiasm  had  somewhat  cooled. 
It  occurred  to  me  it  would  not  be  an  unwise  precaution 
to  make  some  inquiry  about  him.  I  did  so  quietly  of  per 
sons  I  thought  most  apt  to  be  informed,  but  nobody  could 
give  me  any  information.  I  then  asked  as  to  Pollock,  Pem- 
berton,  Hollis  and  Company,  and  could  learn  little  or  nothing 
about  them.  The  firm  was  not  composed  of  well  known 
business  men.  It  had  suddenly  sprung  into  existence.  No 
one  appeared  to  know  any  thing  against  them,  nor  for  that 
matter,  in  their  favor.  Finally  I  strolled  leisurely  past  their 
place  in  Water-street.  It  was  a  fine  large  store,  running 
through  to  Front-street,  with  an  immense  gilt  sign  extend 
ing  across  the  entire  front.  On  the  stone  columns,  at  each 
side  of  the  door,  the  several  names  of  the  firm  were  neatly 
inscribed.  Evidently  all  was  above-board. 

To  be  sute,  the  appearance  of  things  struck  one  as  a  little 
too  new  and  fresh  to  be  substantial ;  yet  it  was  a  very  fair 
and  shining  outside,  and  it  was  only  the  outside  I  could  see 
that  morning. 

As  I  turned  back  into  Wall-street,  I  met  Mr.  Harley.  "  I 
have  just  come  from  your  place,"  he  remarked,  as  he  cor- 


212  UNDERCURRENTS 

dially  shook  my  hand,  "  and  will  go  back  with  you,  if  you 
please." 

"  Certainly,"  was  my  reply. 

"  Perhaps  you  have  been  to  call  on  me  ?" 

"  Oh !  no,  I  expected  you  by  appointment." 

"  I  suppose,"  continued  Mr.  Harley,  "  you  have  hardly 
had  time  to  ascertain  what  you  can  do  with  the  Al worthy 
paper." 

"  I  did  not  think  best  to  make  any  attempt  till  we  had 
conferred  about  it." 

"Very  judicious — very  judicious,"  was  the  reply,  and  we 
mounted  the  steps  to  my  office. 

"  How  soon  is  the  money  wanted  ?"  I  asked. 

"  Oh !  there  is  no  pressing  haste.  I  would  like  a  couple 
of  thousand  negotiated  in  a  day  or  two,  and  the  balance  as 
opportunity  serves." 

"  And  the  rate  ?" 

"  Well,  as  to  that,  it  must  depend  on  what  you  can  do," 
said  Harley,  with  candor.  "I  will  not  at  the  very  com 
mencement  of  our  acquaintance  say  any  thing  which  even  by 
implication  is  not  frank  and  above-board  ;  and  I  may  as  well 
tell  you,  and  if  you  do  not  now  know  it,  you  will  discover 
it  on  inquiry,  that  Alworthy's  paper  will  not  sell  at  the  best 
rates.  You  can  dispose  of  it,  but  it  will  very  likely  be  at 
some  sacrifice.  No  doubt  you  will  do  the  best  you  can.  I 
will  leave  you  the  whole  batch,  and  will  only  say,  manage 
the  affair  after  your  own  judgment,  so  as  to  make  the  best 
sales  with  the  least  injury  to  the  parties.  I  will  look  in  at 
two  o'clock.  Good  morning.  By  the  way,"  looking  back, 
"  it  is  best  not  to  offer  too  much  in  one  place,  you  know." 


OF      WALL-STREET.  213 

This  was  charming.  Such  a  constituent  did  not  turn  up 
every  day.  I  examined  the  paper.  There  were  eleven 
notes,  all  told,  carefully  divided  so  as  not  to  fall  due  too 
near  together,  averaging  not  quite  a  thousand  dollars  a 
piece.  I  selected  the  notes  which  I  would  offer  to  Loomis, 
and  those  to  Finch.  One  I  would  take  to  the  bank,  two  I 
would  try  at  Brest  and  Company's.  The  first  man  I  called 
on  was  Finch.  I  said :  "  I  have  some  of  Al worthy's  paper ; 
will  you  take  it  ?" 

"  Don't  want  it." 

"  Nothing  wrong,  I  hope." 

"  Oh !  no,  only  I  have  got  enough  of  it ;  rather  sell  than 
buy." 

"  At  what  rate  will  you  sell  ?  perhaps  I  can  find  a  cus 
tomer." 

"At  one  per  cent. ;  and  if  he  don't  like  that,  I  wont  say  I 
wont  take  one  and  a-half." 

So  much  for  gruff  old  Finch.  I  went  next  to  Loomis.  I 
had  better  luck  there.  He  was  just  as  well  "  up"  with  re 
gard  to  Alworthy  as  Finch ;  but  he  had  more  confidence  in 
him  than  the  other. 

"  Well,  I  have  bought  a  great  deal  of  their  paper,"  he 
said,  "  and  have  a  great  deal  of  it,  perhaps  more  than  will 
pay.  How  much  have  you  got,  Mr.  Parkinson,  to  offer  ? 
Perhaps  I  will  make  one  transaction  of  it." 

I  hesitated  slightly.  I  had  at  first  determined  to  offer 
him  three  of  the  notes — should  I  say  four  ?  However,  I 
stuck  to  my  original  decision,  and  answered:  "Not  quite 
three  thousand  dollars,"  and  laid  the  notes  before  him. 

He  looked  them  over,  then  at  the  indorsement.     "  Who 


214  UNDERCURRENTS 

the  devil,"  he  exclaimed,  "  are  Pollock,  Pembertori,  Hollis 
and  Company,"  drawling  out  the  names  ;  "  whew  !" 

"  You  are  behind  the  age,"  I  said,  "  and  have  not  made 
the  acquaintance  of  a  new  but  very  extensive  commission- 
house  in  Water-street." 

"Mr.  Parkinson,"  said  Loomis,  turning  quickly  on  me, 
"  is  there  any  more  paper  out  with  this  indorsement  ?" 

"  Not  that  I  am  aware  of." 

I  had  uttered  a  deliberate  falsehood,  uttered  it  almost  be 
fore  I  knew  what  I  was  saying.  Some  keen  devil  instinct 
whispered  to  me  that  even  the  twenty-nine  hundred  dollars 
was  rather  more  than  Loomis  wanted,  and  quite  as  much  as 
he  would  regard  as  a  legitimate  transaction  for  Alworthy  to 
make  with  this  new  house.  Yes,  the  falsehood  was  uttered, 
and  there  I  stood,  with  a  life-long  reputation  for  honesty  and 
truth — a  liar  !  Loomis  supposed  me  incapable  of  deceiving 
him,  and  so  he  put  the  question,  and  I  had  answered  it. 
,  My  reply  was  satisfactory,  for  after  a  short  pause  he 
said  :  "  I  will  take  the  whole  at  one  and  a  half." 

I  endeavored  to  lower  his  terms.  He  only  replied :  "  The 
best  I  will  do  ;  all  I  will  do.  I  know  it's  a  high  rate,  but  it 
is  not  salable  paper.  To  be  sure,  I  think  it  good,  but  there 
are  more  who  don't." 

The  affair  was  closed,  and  I  received  a  check  for  the 
money.  A  little  after  two  Mr.  Harley  came  in.  I  reported 
the  transaction,  and  showed  him  a  statement  in  which  I  had 
charged  him  a  quarter  per  cent,  commission. 

He  drew  his  pen  across  it.  "  This  will  never  do.  Leave 
the  matter  of  commission  to  me.  By  the  way,  you  m:iv 


OF      WALL-STREET.  215 

give  me  two  thousand  dollars  net ;  it  is  all  I  want  at  pres 
ent  ;  it  wont  hurt  your  bank  account  to  let  the  rest  lay. 
If  you  can  employ  it  for  a  few  days,  do  so  and  welcome." 

"  I  was  overpowered  with  so  much  kindness,  and  could 
not  but  show  I  was  sensibly  affected  by  it. 

"  Arrange  your  deposit,"  said  Mr.  Harley,  "  and  let  us 
lunch  together." 

I  did  not  decline,  and  after  a  little  we  proceeded  to  Del- 
monico's,  and  partook  of  a  nice  steak  and  a  bottle  of  ex 
cellent  claret.  As  we  came  out,  my  new  friend  asked  me 
to  step  with  him  one  moment  to  his  office.  It  was  directly 
over  the  counting-room  of  Pollock,  Pernberton,  Hollis  and 
Company ;  and  as  we  entered,  I  was  introduced  to  Mr. 
Hollis,  one  of  the  firm.  I  was  any  thing  but  favorably  im 
pressed  with  him.  He  was  a  very  young  man,  and  exhib 
ited  neither  wit  nor  intelligence  ;  he  spoke  in  monosyllables, 
and  only  in  answer  to  some  observations  of  mine.  Indeed 
I  thought  his  countenance  very  stolid.  I  saw  Mr.  Harley, 
meanwhile,  giving  the  porter  some  special  directions  ;  then 
returning,  we  went  up-stairs  for  a  few  moments,  when  lie 
seemed  inclined  to  apologize  for  the  appearance  of  Hollis. 
"  A  mere  youth,  but  his  father  puts  in  the  capital  for  him, 
and  really  he  is  an  excellent  book-keeper."  I  could  appre 
ciate  this,  and  so  I  said ;  and  after  some  pleasant  chat,  I 
took  leave.  Glancing  through  the  lofty  store,  I  discovered 
very  few  goods.  Some  baskets  of  champagne  were  piled 
up  in  the  centre,  and  several  hogsheads  and  quarter  casks 
were  on  one  side,  and  a  good  many  cases  of  wine  opposite, 
but  no  other  merchandise.  However,  I  was  not  in  a  scru- 
ti ni /ing  mood,  and  I  did  not  think  twice  of  the  matter. 


216  UNDERCURRENTS 

At  the  usual  hour  I  reached  home  for  dinner.  A  carman 
was  just  leaving  my  house.  Alice  stood  at  the  door  direct 
ing  the  stout  Irish  girl.  There  I  saw  a  basket  of  cham 
pagne,  a  case  of  claret,  another  of  Madeira,  and  a  demijohn 
of  brandy,  each  with  a  card  attached — "  C.  E.  Parkinson, 
Esq.  From  Pollock,  Pemberton,  Hollis  and  Company." 

When  Alice  perceived  me,  she  exclaimed,  "O  dear  papa! 
this  seems  like  old  times,"  and  she  threw  her  arms  about 
my  neck  in  very  joy.  "  But  you  don't  look  happy  yourself, 
papa  ;  are  you  ill  ?" 


OF      WALL-STREET.  217 


CHAPTER  XII. 

THE     LIE  . 

"You  don't  look  happy  yourself,  papa  ;  are  you  ill  ?" 

Yes,  I  was  ill — sin-struck,  conscience-struck.  There  I 
stood  facing  my  innocent  child — a  liar ;  a  mean  liar,  who 
had  thrown  away  his  birthright,  a  life-long  character  for 
probity,  for  a  quarter  of  one  per  cent,  commission  on  twenty- 
nine  hundred  dollars ;  seven  dollars  and  twenty-five  cents. 
No,  it  was  not  that,  it  was  not  for  the  money.  Had  I  been 
suffering  from  hunger,  and  this  crime  would  procure  me 
food,  there  might  be  some  excuse.  But  I  did  not  lie  for  the 
seven  dollars  and  twenty-five  cents.  I  never  thought  of 
my  commission.  I  told  that  apt  and  ready  falsehood  in 
order  to  carry  my  object,  to  succeed  in  my  negotiation,  to 
show  Mr.  Harley  that  I  was  a  capable  agent,  a  shrewd  man 
of  business.  In  doing  this,  I  deceived  one  who  had  entire 
confidence  in  me  and  who  in  this  particular  case  had  trust 
ed  implicitly  to  my  word.  Such  were  the  thoughts  which 
passed  swiftly  through  my  brain. 

Again  Alice  repeated:  "Dear  papa,  what  is  the  mat 
ter  ?" 

I  put  my  arms  gently  around  her  and  kissed  her  fore 
head.  "  Not  ill,  at  all,  but  much  fatigued,"  I  said.  This 
seemed  to  assure  her,  and  she  ran  in  gayly  before  me.  She 

was  overjoyed  to  see  the  boxes  of  wine :    she  knew,  she 
in 


218  UNDERCURRENTS 

said,  that  every  thing  would  turn  out  happy  again.  Her 
father  would  soon  recover  his  position — she  was  certain 
of  it. 

I  was  accustomed  to  talk  over  with  my  daughter  every 
evening  the  various  incidents  of  the  day.  She  was  the 
only  being  in  the  world  who  sympathized  entirely  with 
every  eifort  of  mine  and  every  emotion.  She  would  sit 
looking  earnestly  at  me,  expressing  joy  or  regret  as  my 
narration  was  favorable  or  the  reverse.  Indeed,  she  ap 
peared  to  be  my  guardian  angel,  placed  there  for  my  conso 
lation  after  my  wife  had  gone.  On  this  occasion,  however, 
I  did  not  feel  disposed  to  speak  of  the  day's  business.  I 
did  think  at  one  moment  that  I  would  give  Alice  a  full  ac 
count  of  it.  Should  I  tell  all  f  I  was  tempted  to  do  so, 
but  I  reconsidered  the  matter,  postponed  it  rather,  for  din 
ner  was  coming  in,  and  with  dinner  was  placed  on  the  table, 
a  bottle  of  the  wine  from  Pollock,  Pemberton,  Hollis  and 
Company.  It  was  of  the  best  quality,  and  I  partook  freely 
of  it.  Then  I  was  in  a  better  humor  with  myself;  I  saw 
things  in  a  mellower  and  more  charitable  light.  "  Be  not 
righteous  over-much,"  rose  aptly  to  my  lips.  "  Morbid 
too  from  great  seclusion,"  and  so  forth. 

The  scene  at  the  table  became  quite  gay :  children  are  so 
magnetic  and  appreciative,  so  ready  to  enjoy!  The  even 
ing  passed  pleasantly,  and  I  went  to  bed  almost  longing  for 
the  next  day  in  which  to  push  my  enterprises ;  and,  filled 
with  pleasant  visions  and  cheering  hopes,  I  fell  asleep. 

Reader,  do  you  not  pity  me  in  your  heart  ?  Like  Sam 
son,  I  knew  not  that  I  was  shorn  of  my  strength,  but  was 
ready  to  exclaim  as  he  did :  "  I  will  go  out,  as  at  other 


OF      WALL- STREET.  219 

times  before,  and  shake  myself."  Do  you  not  pity  me,  that 
after  entering  on  the  declining  years  of  life,  with  loss  of 
fortune  and  friends  and  social  position,  I  should  now  make 
shipwreck  of  a  good  name  ?  Or  are  you  one  of  the  free- 
and-easy  sort  who  will  exclaim :  "  LORD  bless  the  man, 
what's  the  matter  with  him  ?  What  has  he  done  more 
than  is  done  every  day  by  merchant,  doctor,  lawyer,  priest  ? 
What  business  had  Loomis  to  ask  him  such  a  question. 
Answered  him  right  enough.  Sorry  Parkinson  is  going  to 
turn  out  such  a  milk-and-water  fellow.  Shall  lose  all  sym 
pathy  for  him." 

Perhaps  so.  But  the  mass  of  mankind  are  honest  in  their 
instincts,  and  the  mass  will  understand  the  mortal  wound 
inflicted  on  myself  that  day. 

The  next  morning  I  went  early  to  my  office.  I  felt  a 
certain  sense  of  diminution  as  I  walked  up  the  stairs  and 
entered  it.  It  appeared  to  me  that  all  of  a  sudden  I  had 
ceased  to  respect  myself;  that  I  was  merely  floating  about 
with  no  fixed  principle,  attempting  to  pick  up  a  few  dollars 
like  poor  Downer  or  certain  others  whom  I  knew.  While 
I  was  indulging  in  these  reflections,  Harley  came  in.  His 
arrival  had  a  pleasant,  soothing  effect  on  me.  Every  thing 
seemed  all  right  the  moment  he  entered.  He  shook  hands 
with  me,  not  as  one  would  say,  cordially,  or  with  friendly 
emphasis,  or  hearty  good-will,  but  with  a  serious  warmth, 
as  if  he  meant  by  it :  "  How  happy  for  both  that  we  have 
met ;  we  are  destined  to  be  of  great  service  to  each  other ; 
at  any  rate,  you  can  confide  in  and  command  me  from  this 
time  forward." 

"  I  called,"  said  he,  "  to  give  you  some  seasonable  infor- 


220  UNDERCURRENTS 

mation  about  Al worthy  and  Company.  They  have  just 
gone  into  an  extensive  operation,  which  will  throw  a  large 
amount  of  their  paper  on  the  market.  Although  we  are  in 
no  haste  for  the  money,  you  had  better  place  the  notes  you 
have  before  these  others  get  into  the  street.  In  fact,  just 
resolve  to  make  a  day  of  it  and  the  thing  is  done.  They 
are  bold  fellows,"  he  continued,  "  and  are  coining  money 
by  their  operations  in  cotton,  but  so  much  paper  will  raise 
the  rate  :  so  sell  to-day.  Don't  you  say  so  ?" 

Of  course  I  agreed  with  him.  The  question  was,  where 
it  was  best  to  offer  the  notes,  and  in  that  connection  I  found 
myself  narrating  to  Harley  what  I  had  concealed  from  my 
child,  to  wit,  how,  as  it  were  without  knowing  it,  I  had  told 
Loomis  I  was  not  aware  of  there  being  more  paper  of  that 
sort  afloat. 

"  I  see,  I  see,"  said  my  new  friend.     "  I  am  sorry.     You  , 
should  have  avoided  the  question,  and  now  you  may  be  hurt 
with  a  valuable   customer.     My  advice  is  to  go  direct  to 
him,  take  the  bull  by  the  horns " 

"And  tell  him  the  plain  truth,"  interrupted  I;  "that's 
just  what  I  was  thinking  of  doing." 

"  Tell  him  no  such  thing,"  rejoined  Harley.  "  The  truth  is 
not  to  be  spoken  at  all  times.  Not  that  I  counsel  falsehood, 
never ;  but  having  unfortunately  committed  yourself,  let  us 
see  what  is  the  next  best  thing  to  do.  Loomis  is  a  coarse, 
unfeeling  man ;  I  know  him  well.  He  could  never  appre 
ciate  your  delicate  and  sensitive  nature.  No  ;  my  advice  is, 
to  call  on  him  at  once  and  say  you  find  there  are  more  of 
those  notes  in  market — that  you  have  them  to  negotiate, 
and  name  exactly  the  amount  and  ask  him  to  take  them. 


OP      WALL-STREET.  221 

To  be  sure,  he  wont  buy  any  more,  but  it  will  be  turning 
your  mistake  to  the  best  account." 

What  shall  I  say  of  Hurley's  influence  over  me?  How 
explain  it  ?  I  do  solemnly  aver  that  while  he  detailed  to 
me  this  plan  for  repairing  damages,  I  saw  no  great  evil  in 
it,  nothing  very  objectionable  or  calculated  to  do  violence 
to  my  moral  sense.  The  plausibility  of  the  statement,  its 
likeness  to  the  truth,  its  not  containing  any  rough,  angular 
contradiction,  together  with  the  happy  result  to  be  achieved, 
completely  lulled  my  conscience. 

Perceiving  that  I  was  quite  lost  in  thought,  Harley  con 
tinued  :  "  Mind,  Mr.  Parkinson,  I  don't  say  this  plan,  stand 
ing  by  itself,  is  strictly  right,  but  I  repeat,  considering  what 
has  already  occurred,  I  see  nothing  dishonorable  in  my  sug 
gestion  ;  nothing  which  can  by  any  possibility  harm  Loomis 
or  any  one." 

Strange  how  thoroughly  we  began  to  be  acquainted ; 
strange  how  this  man  began  to  exercise  a  species  of  mag 
netic  power  over  me.  Do  not  be  incredulous.  Upon  my 
honor  I  am  recording  the  simple  truth.  I  took  the  notes, 
went  to  Loomis,  made  my  announcement,  and  offered  him 
more  of  the  paper. 

"  And  how  did  he  receive  it  ?"  you  ask. 

Without  moving  a  muscle,  as  a  keen,  sharp-witted  man 
receives  unsatisfactory  information.  There  was,  however,  a 
calculating  expression  in  his  eye,  as  if  he  were  weighing 
what  I  was  saying,  not  with  reference  to  the  altered  value 
of  the  paper,  but  of  the  truth  of  my  statement;  at  least,  so 
I  fancied.  He  did  not  want  to  purchase  farther,  he  said. 
I  ["  asked  me  if  I  knew  the  iiidorsers.  I  told  him  I  had 


222  UNDERCURRENTS 

seen  one  of  the  partners  after  negotiating  the  notes  with 
him  yesterday,  but  could  give  no  information  about  the 
house.  I  took  my  leave,  arid  will  remark  here  that  I  never 
sold  that  man  another  note.  He  formed  his  judgment  off 
hand,  and  acted  accordingly. 

By  very  active  exertion  I  succeeded  in  selling  the  remain 
der  of  Alworthy's  notes.  It  was  hard  work,  and  I  had  to 
submit  to  high  rates ;  but  Harley  said :  "  Better  place  all 
to-day,"  and  before  three  o'clock  it  was  done,  regardless  of 
the  sacrifice.  Then  we  sat  down  in  my  office,  where  I  gave 
him  a  statement  of  the  whole  transaction.  When  he  had 
examined  it  and  counted  the  cash,  he  laid  aside  two  hun 
dred  and  fifty  dollars,  and  handed  it  to  me,  saying:  "I 
hope  this  will  be  a  slight  compensation  for  the  trouble  you 
have  been  at  in  this  business." 

I  was  astounded,  and  knew  not  Avhat  to  reply.  While  I 
was  hesitating,  Harley  continued : 

"If  you  please,  not  one  word;  you  are  entitled  to  this, 
and  I  can  afford  to  pay  it ;  if  I  could  not,  I  would  not  offer 
it,  I  assure  you.  It  is  only  bringing  you  in  to  share  a  por 
tion  of  the  profits  of  a  legitimate  commercial  transaction. 
One  of  these  days  I  may  ask  you  to  do  something  without 
any  commission ;  and  I  promise,  if  necessary,  I  will  not  hes 
itate  to  call  on  you." 

This  explanation  was  very  comforting  and  satisfactory. 
My  heart  was  full.  It  seemed  that  PROVIDENCE,  after  a 
bitter  ordeal,  had  furnished  me  a  genuine  friend.  At  last, 
Fortune  was  beginning  to  relent.  Was  it  possible  ?  I  had 
now  five  hundred  dollars  ahead  !  The  bitterness  of  poverty 
was  past.  I  could  breathe  with  a  kind  of  freedom.  And 


OF      WALL-STREET.  223 

there  sat  the  kind-hearted  man  who  had  done  so  much,  and 
was  preparing,  I  was  certain,  to  do  still  more  for  me.  How 
pliant  all  this  appeared  when  viewed  in  the  light  of  his  ac 
commodating  nature.  Every  thing  seemed  so  plain  and 
easy  of  accomplishment,  and  so  long  as  I  was  with  him  it 
was  impossible  even  to  invent  a  difficulty. 

"  My  friend,"  said  Harlcy,  addressing  me  with  an  air  of 
deep  interest,  "  permit  me  to  tell  you  what  you  are  suffering 
from.  You  have  encountered  a  series  of  disasters,  which, 
with  the  loss  of  your  wife,  has  broken  your  courage,  and 
reduced  your  moral  status  to  below  par.  You  have  foolishly 
decided  to  accept  your  fate  instead  of  battling  against  it. 
In  this  you  show  weakness,  not  natural  in  you,  but  induced 
by  the  untoward  circumstances  you  have  encountered. — 
Now,  there  is  no  reason  you  should  confine  yourself  to  the 
treadmill  work  of  selling  notes  for  a  paltry  commission.  At 
present  there  are  various  enterprises  in  which,  as  negotiator, 
you  could  come  in  for  a  share  of  the  profits  without  having 
to  advance,  or  indeed  risk  any  money.  And  you  owe  it  as 
a  vinty  to  your  family  not  to  permit  them  to  fall  in  the  scale 
of  social  life.  Believe  me,  my  friend,  you  have  a  grave  re 
sponsibility  in  that  quarter." 

Had  I  been  dreaming  ?  or  was  I  now  dreaming  ?  Could 
any  thing  be  more  self-evident  than  what  Harley  was  urging 
on  me  ?  [Yes,  I  had  lost  my  courage,  become  humble,  was 
ready  to  hew  wood  and  draw  water,  if  necessary,  to  gain  a 
living.  But  O  reader !  I  was  meanwhile  an  honest  man. 
How  much  that  means  none  can  fully  understand  who  has 
not  fallen  from  the  high  estate.]  I  replied  to  him,  assenting 
to  what  he  said,  but  remarked  he  little  knew  the  difficulty 


224  UNDERCURRENTS 

of  a  fresh  start  after  being  so  completely  prostrated  as  I  bad 
been. 

"  Courage,  courage,"  he  replied ;  "  all  depends  on  cour 
age.  You  will  dine  with  me  to-day.  The  children  will  let 
you  off  for  once.  I  shall  introduce  you  to  my  wife,  and  I 
hope  we  may  make  an  hour  or  two  pass  cheerfully." 

I  accepted  Harley's  invitation,  and  he  proceeded  to  send 
his  boy  (who  was  waiting  in  my  office)  with  a  note  from 
me  to  let  Alice  know  that  I  should  not  be  home  as  usual. 
"  Now,"  continued  Haiiey,  "  It  is  not  always  I  have  money 
over,  but  just  at  present  I  happen  not  to  be  short.  Let  the 
balance  on  the  other  transaction  (it  was  between  seven  and 
eight  hundred  dollars)  stand  to  your  credit  in  the  bank  for 
a  while ;  and,  as  I  said,  if  you  can  employ  it  in  the  mean 
time,  you  are  welcome  to  do  so.  It  will  give  you  more 
strength,  and  what  is  better,  it  will  add,  I  hope,  to  your 
confidence.  I  must  now  go  to  my  office,  but  I  shall  see 
you  at  five." 

After  Harley  left,  I  put  the  two  hundred  and  fifty  dol 
lars,  which  was  lying  on  the  table,  carefully  in  my  pocket, 
and  starting  to  my  feet,  I  walked  briskly  up  and  down  the 
room,  rubbing  my  hands  together  with  a  species  of  glee ; 
and  thus  I  celebrated  the  success  of  the  day.  I  had  still 
something  on  hand  to  do.  One  or  two  small  notes  to  get 
through  for  very  respectable  parties ;  and  although  it  was 
after  three,  I  knew  I  could  find  several  money-lenders  still 
at  their  posts.  So  I  descended  to  the  street. 

Reaching  the  pavement,  I  saw  a  few  persons  congregated 
on  the  corner.  Walking  in  that  direction,  I  perceived  Sol 
Downer  in  charge  of  a  police-officer.  They  were  evidently 


OF      W  A  L  L  -  S  T  R  E  E  T .  225 

waiting  for  something.     But  the  official  was  impatient,  and 
seemed  disposed  to  proceed  on  his  way. 

"  For  GOD'S  sake,"  I  heard  Downer  exclaim  in  a  low 
tone,  as  I  came  up,  "step  into  my  office,  for  a  few  minutes, 
till  my  lawyer  can  come.  At  any  rate,  give  me  a  chance  to 
send  home." 

The  officer  had  doubtless  received  a  charge  to  make 
quick  work  with  the  arrest ;  indeed,  I  saw  a  young  man 
whom  I  recognized  as  a  clerk  in  a  most  respectable  bank 
ing-house,  whispering  to  the  police  official.  Whereupon 
the  fellow  became  still  more  peremptory,  and  said  he  could 
wait  no  longer.  I  am  happy  to  say,  my  better  feelings  pre 
vailed  over  the  selfish  ones.  I  walked  up  to  Downer,  and 
asked  him  if  I  could  be  of  any  service. 

He  was  sensibly  affected.  "  Thank  you,"  he  whispered 
in  a  hoarse,  unnatural  tone — he  put  me  in  mind  of  a  wild 
beast  hunted  to  his  lair,  and  desperate.  "  I  wanted  to  see 
Storms,  my  lawyer,  but  this  humble  servant  of  justice  can't 
wait ;  oh  !  no,  because  the  almighty  house  of  Strauss,  Bev- 
ins  and  Company  says,  '  Proceed,'  I  must  go  to  the  Tombs 
in  double-quick  time." 

"  And  what  is  it  ?"  I  asked  in  a  low  tone. 

"  Why,  what  turns  out  to  be  a  forged  note  on  a  good 
house  was  put  into  my  hands  by  a  stranger  to  sell ;  I  did 
sell  it  to  them,  paid  over  the  money,  and  received  my  com 
mission,  and  on  my  soul,  that's  all  I  know  about  it.  Yet  I 
am  to  be  made  the  scape-goat."  The  policeman  here  inter 
posed,  and  said  they  must  be  off. 

"  What  can  I  do  for  you  ?*  Do  you  require  any  money  ?" 
I  asked. 

10* 


226  UNDEEC  UK  II  EXTS 

"  No,  thank  you,  but  will  you  call  on  Storms,  and  tell 
him  where  I  am,  and  ask  him  to  come  to  me  as  soon  as 

possible,  and — and "  his  voice  became  tremulous — "will 

you  please  stop  at  my  house,  and  tell  my  folks  that  I  am 
obliged  unexpectedly  to  go  out  of  town  to-night;  mind 
you  say  out  of  town,  to  be  back  to-morrow ;  put  this  in  an 
envelope,  and  seal  it,  and  give  it  to  my  wife."  lie  handed 
me  a  three-dollar  bill,  and  the  next  moment  was  on  his  way 
up  Nassau-street,  toward  the  Tombs. 

This  affair  depressed  me  greatly,  I  hardly  knew  why.  I 
proceeded  at  once  to  Mr.  Storms's  office,  where  I  waited 
half  an  hour  before  he  came  in.  Then  I  repeated  what  I 
knew  as  to  the  charge  against  Downer  and  delivered  his 
mes:$ge.  I  was  gratified  at  the  lively  interest  that  gentle 
man,  who  was  a  counsellor  of  high  respectability,  manifest 
ed  in  the  case.  "  Poor  fellow  !"  he  exclaimed,  "  I  will  go 
at  once.  Whatever  the  charge  is,  I  know  Downer  has  in 
tended  nothing  wrong." 


OF      WALL-STREET.  227 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

THE    GLORIA    HOTEL. 

IT  was  now  too  late  to  attend  to  any  other  business,  and 
quite  time  for  me  to  meet  my  appointment  with  Harley,  at 
the  Gloria  Hotel,  then  the  latest  built,  and  in  consequence 
the  most  fashionable  house  in  the  city.  I  found  him  occu 
pying  a  handsome  private  parlor,  where  he  introduced  me 
to  his  wife  (he  had  no  children),  who  was  a  pale,  stylish- 
looking  young  woman,  dressed  after  the  latest  mode,  a 
good  deal  affected,  and  rather  inclined,  as  the  phrase  is,  to 
put  on  airs.  However,  she  received  me  politely,  and  dur 
ing  the  few  moments  before  dinner,  managed  to  give  me  a 
very  tolerable  idea  of  the  miseries  and  inconveniences  at 
tending  living  at  a  hotel.  It  was  the  ordinary,  common 
place  talk,  very  prettily  rehearsed.  I  ventured  to  suggest 
keeping  house. 

"  Oh !  not  for  the  world,  not  for  ten  worlds,"  exclaimed 
Mrs.  Harley.  "  HEAVEN  knows  I  have  care  enough  now  ; 
nothing  on  earth  would  ever  induce  me  to  venture  on  house 
keeping. 

We  were  just  then  summoned  to  dinner,  and  the  interest 
ing  conversation  was  interrupted.  I  soon  discovered,  by 
the  extraordinary  deference  Harley  paid  his  wife,  that  he 
was  under  a  species  of  discipline  while  in  her  presence.  In 
fact,  he  appeared  like  a  different  person.  Not  a  Avord  did 


228  UNDE  R  C  U  KEENTS 

he  utter  that  he  did  i»ot  watch,  with  a  kind  of  solicitude, 
its  effect  on  her.  During  dinner,  Mrs.  Harley,  who,  deli 
cate  as  she  seemed,  I  found  possessed  an  excellent  appetite, 
made  frequent  inquiries  if  I  knew  this  or  that  person  or 
family.  I  could  very  often  answer  in  the  affirmative,  which 
seemed  to  increase  the  lady's  respect  for  me. 

"  Oh  !  well,"  she  said,  "  I  wish  Algernon  was  not  so  en 
grossed  in  business  as  to  neglect  social  life.  I  think  it  a 
shame,  Mr.  Parkinson,  and  so  I  tell  him." 

Mr.  Harley  here  joined  in  the  conversation,  admitted  the 
truth  of  the  charge,  filled  my  glass  from  a  fresh  bottle  of 
wine;  "  women  can't  appreciate,"  said  he,  "  all  we  have  to 
contend  against." 

"  Appreciate !"  interrupted  the  lady.  "  If  an  incessant 
clamor  about  it  would  make  us  do  so,  I  think  we  might. 
No  ;  I  don't  appreciate  it,  I  confess.  You  men  love  the  ex 
citement  of  business,  and  you  don't  stop  to  think  your 
wives  love  the  excitement  of  fashion,  society,  and  so  forth, 
and  you  are  a  selfish  set,  all  of  you." 

I  did  not  deny  this,  but  helped  Mrs.  Harley  to  a  sweet 
bread,  and  some  preserved  peas,  which  for  a  time  seemed 
to  quiet  her  resentment.  Meanwhile,  as  dinner  proceeded, 
and  the  wine  began  to  circulate,  my  host  grew  even  more 
friendly  and  communicative. 

"Do  you  know,"  he  said  in  a  low  tone,  "  we  are  about 
entering  on  a  magnificent  period  for  speculation  ?  I  mean 
legitimate  speculation  ;  there  is  much  to  be  done,  I  assure 
you,  and  we — you  and  I — must  take  advantage  of  fortune 
at  the  flood.  For  myself,  I  am  a  sanguine  man,  perhaps 
too  sanguine  ;  I  need  just  such  a  friend  as  you  to  counsel 


OF      WALL-STREET.  229 

and  advise  with,  and  sometimes  to  hold  me  buck.  Do  not 
think  me  too  disinterested  or  too  benevolent.  I  am  sure 
your  friendship  will  be  as  valuable  to  me,  as  I  hope  mine 
may  be  to  you.  It  is  when  benefits  are  mutual  that  co-oper 
ation  is  really  of  value.  By  the  by,  you  must  taste  this 
new  brand  of  champagne.  Pemberton  has  just  secured  the 
agency.  Do  not  forget  to  recommend  it  when  you  have  a 
chance,  that  is,  if  you  are  yourself  satisfied.  I  have  intro 
duced  it  at  the  Gloria  splendidly :  got  half  a  dozen  friends 
to  call  for  it  on  the  same  day.  The  next,  down  came  an 
order  for  a  dozen  baskets,  and  it  goes  off  now  like  hot 
cakes.  I  tell  you,  my  friend,  every  thing  has  to  be  puffed 
into  notice ;  and  if  what  you  offer  is  a  good  thing,  and  no 
honest  man"  (this  said  with  great  empressement)  "  will  ever 
offer  what  is  not  good,  why,  the  more  you  try  to  introduce 
it  the  better  for  the  world  at  large,  and  yourself  in  particu 
lar." 

"  I  really  think  it  is  downright  rudeness  in  you,  Alger 
non"  (Mrs.  Harley  had  finished  her  sweetbread  and  pre 
served  peas),  "  to  be  monopolizing  Mr.  Parkinson  in  that 
way;  talking  about' business  too.  I  declare  it  is  shameful." 
"I  agree  with  you,"  I  hastened  to  reply,  and  so  cover 
my  friend,  "  but  permit  me  to  say,  it  grew  very  naturally 
out  of  your  husband's  offering  me  a  new  brand  of  wine." 

"  Oh  !  I  am  disgusted  with  all  that  sort  of  thing ;  manag 
ing,  managing,  the  whole  time ;  I  am  sick  of  management, 
I  hate  management.  If  I  were  a  man,  and  a  business-man, 

and  could  not  get  along  without  it,  I  would " 

"  Yes,  tell  us  what  you  would  do,"  interrupted  Mr.  Har 
ley,  with  a  winning  smile. 


230  UNDERCURRENTS 

"  Well,  I  know  I  could  do  without  it,  and  I  would  do 
without  it ;  that's  all." 

We  both  laughed,  and  Mrs.  Harley  continued  much  in 
the  same  strain  till  the  dessert  was  brought  in,  when  her 
attention  was  turned  in  its  former  direction.  Dinner  over, 
I  escorted  the  lady  into  the  grand  hall,  where  several  per 
sons  of  both  sexes  came  up  to  speak  with  her,  and  at  ihis 
particular  juncture  her  husband  remarked  :  u  Mr.  Parkinson 
and  I  are  going  to  smoke  a  cigar,  my  dear :  shall  we  leave 
you  here?"  The  lady  bowed  a  careless  assent,  and  we 
turned  our  steps  toward  the  smoking-room. 

We  spent  the  time  there  in  earnest  conversation,  in  which 
I  was  principally  a  listener,  and  which  assumed  on  the  part 
of  Mr.  Harley  a  most  confidential  tone.  He  gave  me  an 
account  of  his  past  fortunes,  the  checks  and  reverses  .he  had 
experienced,  and  his  present  cheering  prospects.  He  was 
soon  to  leave  for  England,  and  should  carry  out  with  him 
several  notable  schemes,  sure  to  attract  the  attention  of  the 
capitalists  on  the  other  side  of  the  water.  He  produced 
some  of  his  papers,  and  gave  me  a  brief  account  of  the 
various  enterprises  he  had  at  command.  Among  these  I 
distinctly  recollect  the  following  : 

Three  California  gold  mines. 

One  Virginia  ditto,  in  working  order. 

One  on  the  Isthmus. 

Two  magnificent  Lake  Superior  copper  mines. 

One  Tennessee  copper  mine. 

Charter  from  the  state  of  Virginia  for  a  land  company. 

Ditto  from  the  state  of  Georgia  for  a  timber  company. 

Plan  for  purchasing  live-oak  lands  in  Florida, 


OF      WALL-STREET.  231 

Invention  (already  patented)  for  making  paper  out  of  the 
bark  of  certain  trees. 

Ditto  for  smelting  ores,  with  little  or  no  fuel. 

Ditto  for  generating  steam,  ditto,  ditto. 

Plan  for  manufacture  of  French  brandy  at  Paris,  out  of 
whiskey,  to  be  imported  from  America,  and  returned  prop 
erly  flavored  and  colored,  and  sold  in  bond  in  New  York. 

Invention  for  making  steel  out  of  coarse  pig-iron,  at  a 
trifling  expense.  Together  with  various  little  aflkirs,  which 
Harley  called  playthings,  out  of  which  he  "  could  always 
make  a  few  thousand  pounds." 

"You  see,"  he  continued,  "I  have  my  hands  full.  I 
know  what  I  am  about.  I  have  made  every  preparation  in 
London.  I  left  there  only  three  months  ago.  I  have  se 
cured  Larry,  Buxton,  Westneath  and  Hope  for  my  solici 
tors,  the  first  men  in  their  line  in  the  city ;  very  rich  con 
nections  ;  had  a  letter  from  them  yesterday.  Glynn  and 
the  London  and  Westminster  Bank  will  act  as  my  bankers. 
I  shall  get  off  as  soon  as  possible.  Now,  you  see,  Mr. 
Parkinson,  why  I  want  a  reliable  man  to  represent  this 
side,  while  I  am  on  the  other.  We  can  join  forces,  and  in 
less  than  a  twelvemonth  I  will  promise  you  half  a  dozen 
fortunes,  if  one  wont  satisfy  you." 

It  was  with  such  hopeful  conversation  that  the  evening 
was  beguiled.  Although  I  could  not  be  blind  to  the  fact 
that  Harley  was  a  speculator,  ready  to  embark  in  any 
scheme  that  should  promise  well,  I  knew  at  the  same  time 
that  there  were  opportunities  for  making  money  out  of  such 
matters,  and  that  not  uufrequently  they  did  turn  out  well 
when  in  clever  hands.  Now,  Harley  was  already  acquaint- 


232  UNDERCURRENTS 

ed  in  London,  and  had  laid  the  foundation  for  what  he  was 
to  do.  Why,  out  of  all  these  enterprises  might  not  one 
turn  'out  a  prize  ?  I  must  say  that  while  his  ingenuous 
avowals  rather  lowered  my  previous  standard  of  the  man, 
I  felt  as  kindly  toward  him  as  ever,  and,  I  believe  quite 
as  much  under  his  magnetic,  I  was  about  to  say  magical, 
influence. 

During  a  slight  pause  in  the  conversation,  I  looked  at  my 
watch.  It  was  after  ten  o'clock.  Suddenly  I  thought  of 
Downer,  and  my  promise  to  visit  his  family.  What  would 
they  not  suffer  all  this  evening  from  the  unexplained  ab 
sence  !  I  started  up  and  declared  I  must  leave.  Mr.  liar- 
ley  would  have  detained  me,  but  he  saw  I  was  urgent.  So 
we  mounted  again  to  his  parlor,  where  I  had  left  my  over 
coat,  to  say  good  evening  to  madam.  She  was  seated  lan 
guidly  in  one  of  the  rocking-chairs. 

"  This  is  always  the  way,"  she  said,  "  Algernon  invites  a 
guest.  Immediately  after  dinner,  on  the  plea  of  wishing  to 
smoke  a  cigar,  he  disappears  with  him  to  the  regions  below, 
whence  he  emerges  toward  midnight,  and  where  he  talks 
business,  business,  business." 

"  Forgive  me,"  I  exclaimed,  "  I  think  I  am  the  offender 
this  time,  not  your  husband,  for  permitting  myself  to  be 
come  so  interested  in  what  he  has  been  saying.  I  will 
promise  better  behavior  in  future." 

The  lady  smiled,  Harley  smiled,  and  I  came  away. 


OP      WALL-STREET.  233 


CHAPTER    XIV. 

DOWNER'S    FAMILY. 

WHEN  I  descended  to  the  side- walk,  I  found  a  driving, 
blinding  snow-storm,  had  set  in,  for  it  was  now  the  first 
week  in  December,  one  of  those  storms  peculiar  to  New- 
York.  The  wind  blew  half  a  hurricane  through  the  streets, 
carrying  the  snow  along  laterally,  and  with  a  fury  almost 
irresistible,  into  the  face  and  eyes  of  pedestrians,  turning 
umbrellas  inside  out,  encasing  the  lamps  with  a  thick  crust, 
confusing  the  omnibus-drivers,  and  making  every  kind  of 
locomotion  nearly  impossible.  Sol  Downer's  residence  hap 
pened  to  be  quite  as  far  up  town  as  mine,  but  unfortunately 
on  the  other  side  of  the  city.  I  managed  to  get  into  an 
omnibus  going  near  his  home,  but  from  which  I  would  be 
forced  to  walk  all  the  way  to  mine. 

It  was  eleven  o'clock  before  I  rang  at  Mr.  Downer's  dooi*. 
It  was  opened  almost  instantly  by  a  tall  elderly  lady,  neatly 
dressed  in  black,  of  a  most  prepossessing  appearance,  who 
exclaimed,  on  seeing  me :  "  Oh !  how  relieved  I  am ;  I 
feared  something  had  happened  to  you."  . 

As  I  stepped  into  the  hall,  she  discovered  her  mistake, 
and  her  terror  was  extreme.  Her  lips  became  bloodless 
and  her  eyes  wild,  as  she  seized  my  a'rm  and  uttered  in  a 
faint  tone,  "  Where  is  my  husband  ?" 

With  a  word  I  reassured  her.     "He  is  perfectly  well. 


234  UNDEKCUKB  EN  T  S 

Just  as  I  was  leaving  my  office  he  asked  me  to  call  and  say 
he  was  obliged  to  go  out  of  town,  to  return  to-morrow." 
At  the  same  time  I  put  the  envelope  which  covered  the  three 
dollars  into  her  hand. 

It  was  hard  absolutely  to  convince  her;  that  is,  instinc 
tively  she  felt  something  had  gone  wrong,  but  she  was 
measurably  relieved,  and  asked  me  into  the  parlor.  As  I 
was  suffering  from  cold,  after  a  slow,  tedious  ride  in  the 
omnibus,  I  accepted  the  invitation,  and  entered  a  room  very 
inexpensively  but  prettily  furnished,  where  around  a  table 
were  seated  two  young  ladies  of  really  charming  appear 
ance,  and  a  youth  of  fifteen  or  sixteen.  The  whole  arrange 
ments  produced  a  subdued  but  pleasant  impression.  No 
one  could  mistake  the  quiet  and  unpretentious  air  which 
pervaded  the  apartment.  I  hastened  to  repeat  my  message 
and  to  explain  still  farther,  that  I  had  myself  been  detained 
late  by  a  previous  appointment. 

"  Yet,  how  much  we  thank  you  for  coming,"  said  the 
lady  ;  "  we  were  all  in  such  distress.  Mr.  Downer  applies 
himself  so  hard,  and  is  so  frequently  subject  to  ill  turns,  that 
I  am  always  very  nervous  when  he  is  out  a  little  over  his 
time  ;  but  to-night,  oh !  it  was  dreadful,  and  in  this  terrible 
storm." 

As  I  cast  my  eyes  round  the  room,  and  saw  the  evidences 
there  of  a  refined  and  gentle  spirit ;  saw  the  order  of  the 
household  ;  saw  well-educated  and  well-regulated  children  ; 
saw  what  should  make  a  person  happy  in  his  home,  I 
thought  of  the  hard-pushed  and  desperate  man,  who  was 
toiling,  sweating,  agonizing  to  keep  that  family  together.  I 
could  fancy  Downer  corning  in  from  his  degrading  labors, 


OF      WALL-STREET.  235 

casting  off  the  slough  with  which  his  encounter  with  rogues 
and  knaves,  sharpers  and  misers  had  besmeared  him,  and 
enjoying  the  lovely  influence  of  that  home  scene.  Yes,  now 
I  understood  what  he  was  battling  for — to  keep  these  safe, 
and  screened  from  misery.  Poor  fellow  !  and  my  heart  re 
proached  me  for  what  my  heart  had  felt  toward  him  of 
late. 

In  the  course  of  conversation  I  mentioned  that  Mr. 
Downer  and  I  were  old  acquaintances,  and  repeated  my 
name.  Mrs.  Downer  recollected,  she  said,  but  she  made  no 
allusion  to  former  times,  and  our  remarks  turned  wholly  on 
present  topics.  In  a  few  minutes  I  took  my  leave,  preparing 
to  encounter  the  fury  of  the  storm  on  foot. 


236  UNDERCURRENTS 


CHAPTER    XV. 

AN     ADVENTURE. 

IT  proved  to  be  a  night  of  adventure. 

I  had  four  avenues  to  traverse,  and  the  storm  coming  from 
the  north-east,  drove  violently  in  my  teeth.  I  buttoned  my 
overcoat  about  my  ears,  settled  my  hat  close  over  my  face, 
and  presenting  my  head  combatively  to  the  tempest  I  pushed 
on.  I  had  in  this  way  crossed  from  the  Eighth  to  the  Sixth 
Avenue,  scarcely  conscious  of  the  progress  made,  when  I 
struck  against  an  object  in  the  middle  of  the  side-walk,  and 
was  saluted  by  the  exclamation  :  "  Stop !" 

Whatever  alarm  I  experienced  was  immediately  dissipated 
when  I  raised  iny  head  and  got  sight  of  the  person  who 
stood  in  my  way.  It  was  a  girl  bare-headed,  without  cloak 
or  shawl ;  perhaps  fourteen  years  old. 

Before  I  could  question  her,  she  exclaimed :  "  Mother  is 
dying.  Wont  you  come  quick  ?" 

Without  a  word  being  said,  for  she  hurried  me  on  too 
rapidly  for  conversation,  I  followed  down  the  avenue  to  the 
next  street,  and  turning  into  it,  went  perhaps  half  a  block, 
when  my  companion  entered  a  two-story  wooden  house,  and 
ran  rapidly  up  the  stairs  to  the  front  room.  Here  on  a  bed 
lay  a  woman  moaning  and  gasping,  and  exhibiting  symptoms 
resembling  epilepsy. 


OF      W  A  L  L-S  TRE  ET.  237 

"  Don't  be  frightened,"  I  said,  "  your  mother  is  not  dying 
— is  not  going  to  die." 

"  Are  you  sure  of  that  ?"  said  the  girl. 

Something  in  the  sound  of  her  voice  strange  and  startling 
— a  masculine  vigor,  coupled  with  an  extraordinary  maturity, 
caused  me  to  turn  and  regard  her.  Large  black  eyes  were 
fixed  on  me  with  a  firm  but  unsatisfied  look,  as  if  they 
would  say  :  "  Do  not  amuse  me :  I  am  no  child.  Tell  me 
the  truth." 

To  these  imaginary  observations,  rather  than  to  the  direct 
questions  I  replied :  "  I  repeat,  your  mother  is  not  dying,  but 
evidently  has  had  a  fit  of  some  kind.  Is  she  subject  to  such 
attacks  ?" 

"No!" 

She  looked  at  me  almost  defiantly. 

I  was  at  a  loss  what  to  say  or  do  when  I  was  relieved  by 
hearing  the  poor  woman,  who  had  regained  her  conscious 
ness,  exclaim,  "Matilda." 

She  went  to  the  bed-side  of  her  mother,  who  asked  what 
was  the  matter. 

I  replied  that  I  believed  she  had  been  taken  suddenly  ill, 
and  her  daughter  in  alarm  ran  out  for  aid  and  met  me. 
"And  now  that  I  am  here,"  I  continued,  "I  shall  be  happy 
if  I  can  do  any  thing  to  relieve  you." 

"  Give  the  gentleman  a  chair,  my  daughter,"  said  the  sick 
woman,  for  although  I  had  shaken  the  snow  from  my  hat 
and  coat,  I  was  still  standing. 

She  obeyed,  and  I  sat  down.  Meanwhile  I  had  glanced 
about  the  room  and  taken  a  closer  look  at  its  inmates.  The 
appearance  was  that  of  biting  poverty  without  sqiuilidness 


238  UNDERC  UK  RENTS 

or  misery.  The  girl  was  very  handsome  and  well  formed, 
but  exhibited  in  her  demeanor  no  softness,  indeed,  little  that 
was  feminine.  When  I  sat  down,  she  seated  herself  at  the 
window  and  looked  out  on  the  storm.  There  was  something 
in  the  expression  of  her  eyes  which  brought  back  some  old 
association,  but  what  I  could  not  tell.  The  mother  was  evi 
dently  a  lady  and  possessed  of  natural  refinement  and  deli 
cacy.  She  explained  to  me  that  she  had  been  very  closely 
at  work  all  day  with  the  needle,  and  as  she  was  getting  into 
bed  she  had  been  seized  in  a  most  alarming  manner,  and 
was  for  the  time  insensible.  When  she  recovered  she  saw 
me  standing  over  her. 

It  was  the  old  tale  of  destitution,  hard  work,  and  a  final 
breaking  down  of  a  naturally  strong  constitution.  Yes,  the 
familiar  story,  so  much  so  that  the  novel-reader  who  has 
persevered  thus  far,  in  the  belief  that  some  extraordinary 
incident  would  yet  turn  up,  will  exclaim :  "  Pshaw !  how 
very  stale  and  common-place  this  meeting  a  girl  in  the  street 
and  being  conducted  up  a  pair  of  stairs  to  a  sick-room,  and 
so-forth  and  so-forth.  To  be  sure,  all  this  is  very  common — 
would  it  were  otherwise,  but  GOD  permits  one  class  of  his 
creatures  to  fare  sumptuously  every  day,  while  another  class 
starves,  and  the  mystery  of  this  we  may  not  undertake  to 
fathom. 

The  poor  lady  seemed  so  nearly  recovered  that  there  was 
nothing  to  be  done  for  her.  I  asked  if  I  could  render  her 
any  assistance,  and  if  she  was  suffering  from  any  pressing 
want.  She  answered  no,  and  regretted  that  I  should  have 
been  taken  out  of  my -way. 

There  was  no  reason  why  I  should  stay  longer,  yet  I  felt 


OF      WALL-STREET.  239 

irresistibly  impelled  to  speak  to  the  young  girl,  who  main 
tained  her  seat  by  the  window,  looking  fixedly  out  of  it. 
As  I  rose  to  depart,  I  said,  turning  to  her : 

"  You  see  I  was  right,  your  mother  will  be  quite  well  by 
morning." 

She  assented  by  a  nod. 

"  Where  were  you  going  when  I  met  you  ?"  I  asked. 

"  I  thought  mother  was  dying,  and  I  started  to  find  some 
body  to  come  to  her.  I  did  not  dare  stay  to  see  her  die." 
And  she  looked  again  with  that  expression  which  had  touch 
ed  me,  and  which  called  up  a  strange  feeling,  like  the  mem 
ory  of  a  half-forgotten  dream. 

"  I  think  I  must  call  and  see  you  to-morrow,"  I  said  to  the 
lady,  "  for  we  are  in  the  midst  of  a  heavy  storm.  I  reside 
not  far  from  here,  and  I  shall  see  if  I  can't  be  of  some  use 
to  you.  Pray,  may  I  inquire  your  name?" 

"Mrs.  Hitchcock." 

"And  your  husband?" 

"  Has  been  dead  for  a  long  time." 

"  He  was  -     -  " 

"  A  physician  ;  Dr.  Ralph  Hitchcock." 

"  Who  graduated  at  Yale  College,  thirty  years  ago  ?" 

"Yes." 

"  Who  resided  in  Cincinnati,  and  died  there  ?" 

"  The  same." 

"  And  you  are  Ralph  Hitchcock's  widow  ?" 

"  I  am." 

"  And  this  young  person  ?" 

"  His  daughter.     The  only  surviving  of  five  children." 

The  room  swam  round.     Ralph  Hitchcock,  my  class-mate, 


240  UNDERCURRENTS 

my  room-mate  in  college,  my  beloved  friend,  my  cherished 
correspondent,  so  long  as  he  lived,  cut  off  in  the  flower  of 
his  life ;  while  already  acquiring  fame,  and  laying  the  foun 
dation  for  a  grand  success,  death  had  snatched  him  away. 

I  stood  oppressed  with  these  thoughts,  not  speaking,  not 
moving.  Mrs.  Hitchcock  lay  waiting  calmly  for  some  ex 
planation.  She  had  been  too  long  schooled  by  trouble  to 
become  easily  excited.  Not  so  the  daughter ;  she  rose  from 
her  chair,  came  into  the  middle  of  the  room,  and  burst  into 
a  hysterical  sobbing,  which  was  so  violent  that  it  alarmed 
me.  I  had  made  no  explanation,  but  my  questions  showed  I 
was  well  acquainted  with  the  one  whose  decease  had  caused 
such  a  revolution  in  their  fortunes. 

After  a  short  pause,  I  said :  "My  dear  lady,  I  knew  your 
husband  well ;  more  than  that,  we  were  the  best  of  friends. 
It  is  now  late,  you  are  just  recovering  from  this  sudden  at 
tack.  I  shall  be  sure  to  see  you  to-morrow.  GOD  bless  you 
both  !  And  I  came  away. 

Desperate  as  my  own  affairs  had  been,  here  were  circum 
stances  much  more  discouraging.  Reader,  if  you  yourself 
are  unfortunately  borne  down  by  the  weight  of  what  seems 
a  calamitous  destiny,  cast  about  for  some  more  afflicted,  and 
take  on  you  the  office  of  aid  and  adviser.  Assume  a  part  of 
their  burdens,  it  will  help  to  lighten  your  own.  You  will 
be  surprised  what  strength  you  will  gain  beside.  It  is  so. 
For  thus  marvellously  has  GOD  established  the  paradox : 
" There  is  that  maketh  himself  poor,  yet  hath  great  riches.1" 

I  reached  home  about  midnight.  Alice  was  waiting  for 
me,  and  had  a  cheerful  fire,  which  glowed  in  happy  contra?!- 
with  the  night  out  of  doors.  I  recounted  to  my  daughter 


OF      WALL-STREET.  241 

this  last  adventure,  and  she  was  eager  to  undertake  any 
thing  which  could  serve  to  aid  my  new  acquaintances.  She 
exhibited  an  especial  sympathy  for  the  young  girl,  and 
evidently  appreciated  her  character  better  than  I  did.  After 
many  plans  advanced,  rejected  and  approved,  we  concluded 
to  wait  till  I  saw  Mrs.  Hitchcock  again  before  deciding  on 
any. 

11 


242  UNDERCURRENTS 


CHAPTER    XVI. 

DOWNER     BEFORE     THE     MAGISTRATE. 

SOL  DOWXEE  was  discharged  the  next  day,  on  his  exam 
ination  before  the  magistrate.  Mr.  Storms,  his  counsel, 
having  carefully  investigated  the  case,  and  examined  the 
papers,  came  before  the  judge,  indignantly  denouncing  the 
men  who  could  swear  to  such  affidavits  as  those  on  which 
the  warrant  was  granted.  These  affidavits  were  made  by 
the  head-clerk  of  Strauss,  Bevins  and  Company,  and  by 
Mr.  Strauss,  the  senior  partner.  To  be  sure,  the  paper 
which  Downer  sold  to  the  house  was  forged,  and  the  house- 
had  purchased  it.  These  were  the  only  truths  stated  by 
them. 

The  head-clerk  had  transacted  the  business,  and  although 
he  had  not  transcended  the  line  of  his  duty,  felt  it  neces 
sary,  or  at  least  thought  it  would  be  highly  praiseworthy, 
to  fix  thes  responsibility  somewhere  by  criminating  some 
body.  As  Downer's  reputation  was  a  good  deal  below  par, 
he  felt  it  would  be  safe  to  strain  a  point  against  him.  The 
chances  were  (so  he  reasoned)  that  "  Old  Sol"  knew  some 
thing  about  it,  and  an  arrest  might  frighten  the  truth  out 
of  him.  This  was  the  logical  conclusion  arrived  at  by  Mr. 
Tompkins,  head  man  of  the  highly  respectable  and  well-to- 
do  banking-house  of  Strauss,  Bevins  and  Company.  There 
upon  he  visited  the  counsel  of  that  establishment,  who 


OF      WALL-STREET.  243 

taking  the  tale  as  it  was  told  him,  prepared  some  affidavits 
to  suit  the  case  as  stated.  The  head  man,  after  considerable 
reflection,  decided  in  his  own  mind  that  Downer  told  him, 
in  answer  to  a  question,  that  the  makers  of  the  note  had 
assured  him  (Downer)  that  it  was  all  -right.  Of  course  the 
makers  had  done  no  such  thing,  and  swore  they  had  not, 
neither  had  Downer  said  so.  What  he  did  say  was,  as  the 
note  was  a  large  one,  that  if  it  was  thought  best  he  could 
call  and  get  the  makers  to  say  all  right,  and  so  forth ;  and 
since  the  head-clerk  had  thought  it  unnecessary,  he  felt  the 
more  aggravated  by  the  swindle,  as  people  always  do  when 
they  neglect  any  simple  precaution  which  would  have  made 
all  clear,  and  saved  loss  and  trouble. 

Mr.  Strauss  and  Mr.  Bevins  were  good  men  in  their  way, 
that  is,  for  millionaires.  The  former  was  a  vestryman  in 
the  most  fashionable  church  in  the  city ;  the  latter  a  lead 
ing  elder  in  a  church  of  much  greater  wealth,  but  of  a  dif 
ferent  persuasion,  and  of  less  worldly  pretensions.  Both 
those  gentlemen  were  honest,  straightforward  business  peo 
ple,  quite  above  trick  or  chicanery.  Neither  one  would 
hardly  commit  a  wilful  perjury  to  save  the  half  of  his 
fortune.  But  Mr.  Strauss  reposed  great  trust  in  his  con 
fidential  clerk.  He  had  seen  Downer  before  the  desk, 
probably  heard  a  word  or  two  drop  in  relation  to  the 
transaction,  and  that  was  all.  But  the  dignity  of  the  house 
had  been  assailed  by  a  miserable  fellow  without  any  charac 
ter.  What  right  had  he  to  select  them  for  his  victims,  for 
Tompkins  could  not  be  mistaken,  and  Tompkins  said  so  ? 
He  felt  willing  to  make  any  proper  statement  which  should 
bring  the  man  to  punishment,  and  clear  the  street  of  rogues; 


244  UNDERCUT.  KEXTS 

and  after  reading  the  affidavit  of  his  clerk,  the  principal 
remarked  that  it  seemed  quite  correct. 

The  result  was,  the  drawing  up  of  another  affidavit  by  the 
counsel,  by  which  Mr.  Strauss,  being  duly  sworn,  deposed 
and  said,  that  he  was  present  on  the  occasion  of  Solomon 
Downer's  coming  to  their  establishment  to  offer  a  certain 
note,  etc.,  etc.,  as  set  forth  in  the  affidavit  of  his  clerk 
(naming  him) ;  that  he  heard  a  portion  of  the  conversation 
between  said  Downer  and  said  clerk,  that  he  had  read  the 
affidavit  of  the  said  Tompkins,  and  that  the  facts  therein 
stated  were  true. 

By  which  it  really  appeared  that  two  respectable  wit 
nesses  swore  that  Downer  said  he  was  told  by  the  makers 
the  note  was  all  right ;  when  the  fact  was,  Mr.  Strauss  knew 
nothing  about  it!  Certainly  a  strong  case  for  suspicion 
against  the  poor  fellow,  and  likely  to  bring  him  into  serious 
difficulty,  defenceless  as  he  was,  Avithout  even  the  shield  of 
good  character  to  interpose  against  the  oath  and  influence  of 
one  of  the  most  respectable  bankers  in  New  York. 

But  mark  the  sequel.  Mr.  Storms,  an  independent,  quick 
witted  lawyer,  had,  fortunately,  known  Downer  and  his  fam 
ily  for  many  years,  known  and  sympathized  with  them  in 
their  misfortunes.  He  started,  therefore,  with  the  absolute 
conviction  of  the  innocence  of  his  client,  a  tower  of  strength 
always  to  a  professional  man.  He  had,  too,  in  common  with 
the  better  class  of  advocates,  very  little  veneration  for  men 
simply  on  account  of  their  position. 

I  was  myself  so  much  interested  in  the  case,  that  I  deter 
mined  to  be  present,  and  accordingly  was  already  on  the 
spot  at  ten  o'clock  the  next  morning,  when  Mr.  Strauss  and 


OF      WALL-STREET.  245 

Mr.  Torapkins  presented  themselves,  for  it  was  too  late  the 
night  before  to  go  into  an  examination.  Tompkins  evidently 
began  to  feel  fidgety,  to  say  the  least,  when  he  saw  his  paper 
case  was  to  be  subjected  to  a  critical  examination,  and  he 
along  with  it.  He  had  not  calculated  on  any  thing  of  the 
kind.  Supposed  the  statement  he  had  sworn  to  would  just 
do  the  business,  and  bring  the  culprit  to  light.  Doubtless 
he  really  believed  Downer  was  implicated,  but  how  cruel  and 
how  wanton  to  endeavor  to  consign  him  to  perpetual  infamy 
on  mere  suspicion  ! 

As  I  have  said,  Tompkins  became  nervous  and  fidgety. 
Not  so  Mr.  Strauss,  who  took  his  seat  in  a  patronizing  man 
ner,  not  far  from  the  magistrate,  with  the  air  of  a  man  who 
in  leaving  his  business  was  making  a  sacrifice  for  the  pur 
pose  of  upholding  the  law.  Mr.  Tompkins  was  called  on. 

At  this  juncture,  Mr.  Storms  said  he  had  a  special  reason 
for  requesting  Mr.  Strauss  to  withdraw  during  the  exami 
nation  of  his  clerk. 

"  Me,  sir  !"  said  the  banker,  in  astonishment. 

"  You,  sir,"  replied  Mr.  Storms,  quietly. 

"  Can  you  suppose,  sir,  that  my  confidential  clerk  or  my 
self  can  have  any  object  to  serve  in  this  affair  beyond  the 
furtherance  of  justice." 

"  Certainly  not,"  answered  Mr.  Storms  ;  "  and  it  is  simply 
to  further  justice  that  I  must  ask  the  magistrate  to  request 
your  retiring  a  few  moments." 

The  magistrate  assented  to  the  demand.  Mr.  Strauss, 
taking  up  his  hat,  walked  away  into  the  next  room.  A  little 
of  the  starch  was  already  taken  out  of  him. 

Tompkins,  meantime,  had  somewhat  recovered ;  he  felt 


248  UNDERCURRENTS 

that  the  best  way  for  him  was  to  fortify  against  the  antici 
pated  onslaught,  by  making  himself  up  "  hard,"  as  the 
phrase  is.  So  he  stood  up  with  a  bold  and  rather  audacious 
outside,  which  said  plainly :  "  Now,  sir,  come  on,  you  will 
find  I  am  ready  for  you  !" 

Mr.  Storms,  however,  was  too  good  a  tactician  to  assail 
the  enemy  at  a  point  where  he  was  expected.  On  the  con 
trary,  he  commenced  in  a  mild  and  insinuating  tone ;  he  in 
dulged  most  amiably  in  the  merest  commonplace  questions. 
He  sought  for  information  about  unimportant  details.  The 
amount  of  the  note,  how  long  to  run,  if  the  house  had  lately 
purchased  much  of  the  paper,  and  so  on,  until  the  examina 
tion  assumed  a  conversational  shape.  In  fact,  one  would 
suppose  Mr.  Storms  was  actually  helping  along  the  case, 

Mr.  Tornpkins  was  finally  put  quite  at  his  ease.  He  was 
neither  fidgety  nor  defiant. 

"  By  the  way,  Mr.  Tompkins"  (this  was  run  along  in  the 
examination  in  a  most  unsuspicious  manner),  "how  came 
you  first  to  suspect  Downer  ?" 

"  Why,  because  he  brought  us  the  note." 

"  Of  course,  of  course  ;  nothing  more  natural.  Still,  you 
would  not  suspect  every  body  who  should  bring  what  turn 
ed  out  to  be  forged  paper." 

"  Certainly  not,  if  they  were  respectable  parties ;  but  you 
know  a  man's  character  will  tell  against  him." 

"  I  know  it.  That  is  very  true.  If  Downer  had  been 
differently  situated,  no  doubt  you  would  not  have  thought 
of  him  as  the  guilty  party." 

"  Why,  no,  sir.  We  don't  suspect  men  of  character,  of 
course  ;  why  should  we  ?" 


OF      WALL-STREET.  247 

"  Well,  we  shouldn't." 

"  This  gentleman's  testimony,"  said  Mr.  Storms,  "  is  very 
clear,  very  honest,  and  explicit,  such  as  becomes  the  re 
spectable  house  he  serves.  I  think  that  is  all." 

Mr.  Tompkins  was  delighted  ;  the  "  bitterness "  of  the 
scene  was  past,  he  had  come  off  with  flying  colors,  and  with 
a  compliment  from  the  man  he  deemed  his  enemy.  He  was 
about  leaving,  to  ask  Mr.  Strauss  to  step  in,  when  Mr. 
Storms  exclaimed : 

"  By  the  way,  just  one  word  more.  I  don't  know  as  it's 
of  much  consequence,  but  I  think  you  stated  in  your  affi 
davit  that  Downer  said  the  makers  of  that  note  had  told 
him  it  was  all  right.  Is  there  not  a  trifling  error  here? 
Did  he  not  tell  you  the  makers  doubtless  would  say  it  was 
all  right  ?  Think  a  moment  /" 

The  whole  demeanor  of  Mr.  Storms  had  changed  with  the 
words,  "  Think  a  moment."  These  were  not  uttered  in  a 
loud,  severe  or  bullying  tone;  on  the  contrary,  in  a  low 
voice,  as  if  it  were  a  private  matter  between  the  witness  and 
the  examiner,  with  a  look,  an  action  which  said :  "  I  know 
all  about  it,  and  you  had  better  tell  the  truth."  I  found 
myself  unconsciously  holding  my  breath. 

"  Very  possible,  sir,  that  was  the  expression,"  answered 
Tompkins,  a  little  crest-fullen ;  "  but  that  makes  no  differ 
ence,  for  it  shows  just  as  conclusively  his  determination  to 
mislead  me." 

"  Precisely.     I  have  nothing  more  to  ask." 

Mr.  Strauss  was  then  ushered  in.  Mr.  Storms's  manner 
toward  the  banker  was  entirely  different  from  that  toward 
the  clerk.  It  was  severe  and  curt  and  off-hand. 


248  U  NDEECUKRENTS 

"  You  are  the  senior  partner  of  the  house  of  Strauss, 
Bevins  and  Company  ?" 

"Yes." 

"  You  purchased  of  the  prisoner  such  a  note?"  (describ 
ing  it.) 

"  It  was  purchased  by  Mr.  Tompkins,  with  my  knowledge 
and  assent." 

"  And  you  were  present,  and  heard  all  that  passed  be 
tween  the  prisoner  and  Tompkins  in  relation  to  the  note  ?" 

"  No,  indeed,  I  heard  very  little." 

"  But  you  were  present  ?" 

"  I  suppose  I  can  say  I  w  is.  The  prisoner  was  at  the 
counter,  and  I  was  passing  up  and  down  from  my  own  room 
to  the  middle  office,  in  which  he  stood." 

"  Can  you  recollect  a  single  intelligible  remark  the  pris 
oner  made  ?" 

"No.     I  paid  no  attention  to  what  was  going  on." 

"  But,  Mr.  Strauss,  you  have  sworn  in  your  affidavit  that 
the  prisoner  told  Tompkins  that  the  makers  said  the  note 
was  all  right." 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  I  have  sworn  to  no  such  thing  ;  al 
though  I  do  say  I  believe  he  did." 

"  Never  mind  what  you  believe.  You  have  sworn  that 
the  facts  stated  in  Tompkins's  affidavit  are  true." 

"  And  so  they  are,  as  I  honestly  and  conscientiously  be 
lieve." 

"  Now,  Mr.  Strauss,  do  you  know,  of  your  own  knowl 
edge,  any  thing  about  this  case  beyond  what  you  have  just 
stated  ?  Mind,  I  say,  of  your  own  knowledge  ?" 

"  Sir,  I  have  never  professed  to  know  any  thing  about  the 


OF      WALL- STREET.  249 

case,  except  through  Mr.  Tompkins,  who,  permit  me  to  say, 
has  the  entire  confidence  of  our  firm,  and  on  whose  state 
ment  I  most  implicitly  rely." 

"  And  that  was  all  you  meant  by  swearing  his  affidavit  is 
true  ?" 

"All,  sir." 

The  case  was  at  an  end.  The  banker  did  not  "  see  it," 
but  the  court  did.  The  former  was  consequently  astounded 
when  the  magistrate  announced  that  he  did  not  wish  to  ex 
amine  the  prisoner,  not  feeling  willing  to  detain  him  another 
moment,  adding  that  it  was  highly  culpable  to  swear  so 
carelessly  to  affidavits. 

"  I  do  not  know,  Mr.  Strauss,"  said  Mr.  Storms,  address 
ing  the  banker,  "  what  course  my  client  will  take ;  but  if  he 
follows  my  advice,  he  will  commence  an  action  for  false  im 
prisonment  against  you  without  delay." 

Mr.  Strauss  deigned  no  reply,  but  looked  highly  indignant. 
And  thereupon  all  parties  separated. 

I  walked  down  from  the  "  Tombs"  with  Downer  and  his 
counsel.  The  latter  expressed  his  opinion  in  no  measured 
terms  about  the  affair.  "  These  men  should  be  punished," 
he  said.  "  They  are  as  much  to  blame  for  their  carelessness 
in  taking  an  oath  as  if  they  had  intentionally  committed 
perjury.  I  am  speaking  about  Strauss.  Tompkins  knew 
he  was  lying.  But  in  Strauss's  case,  carelessness  is  crimi 
nality.  You  must  make  him  pay  for  this,"  he  continued, 
turning  to  Downer. 

"  Not  I,"  replied  his  client.  "  I  am  too  old  for  that  sort 
of  thing.  When  I  was  a  young  man,  I  was  ready  to  play 
give  and  take  any  day,  although  I  never  was  revengeful. 
11* 


250  UNDERCUT  RENTS 

Now,  I  would  not  cross  the  street  to  do  a  harm  to  my  worst 
enemy.  It  is  unprofitable  business  seeking  how  to  injure 
another,  Never  shall  undertake  it." 

"  I  declare,"  said  Mr.  Storms  pleasantly,  "  I  think  a  week's 
sojourn  in  the  Tombs  would  do  you  good— at  least  it  might 
take  some  of  this  nonsense  out  of  you." 

"Don't  believe  it  would,"  responded  Downer,  "but  I 
don't  want  a  trial,  though.  I  am  content  with  my  present 
experience." 

"  By  the  way,"  I  remarked,  "  I  feared  you  were  going  to 
let  Tompkins  off  without  bringing  him  to  the  point." 

44  Oh !  no,"  said  Mr.  Storms,  "  I  had  no  such  idea.  But 
the  fellow  was  on  his  guard,  and  I  had  to  work  cautiously. 
I  once  cross-examined  a  witness  more  than  half  an  hour,  and 
actually  put  the  only  question  I  wanted  to  ask  by  carelessly 
stopping  him  after  I  told  him  he  might  go,  and  when  he  had 
actually  opened  the  door  and  was  leaving  the  room.  I  did 
not  even  request  him  to  come  back  to  the  witness-stand.  I 
gained  my  end,  and  got  the  truth  out  of  him.  A  dishonest 
witness  dislikes  amazingly  to  return  to  the  stand,  especially 
after  he  has  received  a  thorough  overhauling.  His  nerves 
are  relaxed  as  he  steps  away,  and  it  is  some  effort  to  brace 
them  up  again.  A  single  response  he  reasons,  can't  turn 
the  scale,  and  so  he  answers  right  in  order  to  prevent  more 
questions. 

Downer  did  not  appear  greatly  interested  in  the  conversa 
tion,  and  on  reaching  Wall-street,  Mr.  Storms  said,  "  Good 
morning  !"  and  went  to  his  own  office.  I  told  Downer  that 
I  had  called  at  his  house  as  he  requested,  and  prevented  any 
alarm  there.  He  thanked  me.  "  I  have  lost  half  a  day," 


OF      WALL-STKEET.  251 

he  said ;  "  I  must  try  and  make  it  up."  And  away  he 
darted  in  the  direction  of  his  own  place. 

I  have  carefully  described  this  affair  of  Sol  Downer,  be 
cause  it  is  what  happens  too  frequently.  Besides,  my  object 
in  these  papers  is  not  only  to  record  some  prominent  events 
in  my  own  life,  but  also  to  endeavor  to  show  what  is  going 
on  in  a  locality  where  I  spent  ten  years  of  it.  I  have  often 
heard  respectable  lawyers  remark  about  a  peculiar  habit 
prevalent  in  our  business  community,  namely,  that  individ 
uals  otherwise  straightforward  and  honorable,  do  not  stop 
much  to  examine  an  affidavit  they  are  about  to  make  when 
a  debt  is  in  danger,  or  they  have  already  been  swindled  out 
of  it.  In  this  way  many  improper  arrests  are  made,  and 
great  injustice  done,  and  actually  perjury  committed. 

The  response  of  a  large  wholesale  merchant  in  Water-street 
to  his  attorney,  who  was  engaged  preparing  his  client's  affi 
davit  in  an  important  case,  unfortunately  is  characteristic  of 
too  many.  The  merchant  had  called  on  the  attorney,  and 
told  him  what  he  wanted,  to  wit,  to  arrest  a  certain  person. 
As  the  attorney  proceeded  to  draw  up  the  document,  he 
kept  asking  his  client  if  he  could  swear  to  this,  if  he  could 
swear  to  that,  and  so  forth. 

The  merchant  got  out  of  patience  ;  the  questions  annoyed 
him :  "  Look  here,"  said  he,  "just  draw  the  affidavit  like  a 
lawyer,  and  I  will  swear  to  it  like  a  man !" 

He  might  have  said,  "  like  a  knave." 


252  UNDERCURRENTS 


CHAPTER    XVII. 

THE     CLASS     SPECULATIVE. 

THE  events  of  the  previous  night  and  the  incidents  of  the 
morning  had  quite  driven  Harley  and  his  speculative  schemes 
out  of  my  head.  When  on  reaching  my  office  I  did  think 
of  them,  it  was  with  a  strange  repugnance.  While  I  was 
engaged  in  what  called  out  the  true  and  just  emotions  of  my 
nature,  I  felt  like  myself;  the  moment  I  recalled  my  trans 
actions  with  my  new  acquaintance  I  felt  unnaturally — that 
is  the  word,  unnaturally.  I  was  either  cast  down  under  a 
sense  of  a  certain  humiliation  or  buoyed  up  with  the  glit-, 
tering  idea  of  suddenly  acquired  wealth.  My  habits  as  a 
merchant  had  been  so  legitimate  ;  my  theory  of  acquisition 
was  so  completely  associated  with  industry  and  application, 
that  I  could  not,  at  my  age,  reconcile  myself  to  a  speculative 
career.  It  was  in  vain  I  argued  to  myself,  if  I  am  fortu 
nately  possessed  of  a  share  in  a  valuable  property  or  charter. 
or  privilege,  and  it  can  be  disposed  of  so  as  to  bring  me 
a  large  return,  why  is  that  not  a  perfectly  correct  and 
business-like  transaction  ?  I  could  not  say  it  was  not ; 
but  my  conscience,  or  rather  the  severe  habit  of  a  long 
and  correct  business  life,  said,  keep  clear  of  all  this  sort 
of  things. 

And  here  I  may  as  well  speak  of  a  class  who  form  one 
element  and  a  considerable  one  of  the  "street"  I  have  un- 


OF     WALL-STREET.  253 

del-taken  to  depict.  I  do  not  mean  the  class  of  visionaries 
already  alluded  to,  nor  any  kind  of  broker,  nor  yet  the  ad- 
venturor  who  from  time  to  time  appears  and  disappears 
upon  the  stage  to  suit  the  occasion,  but  par  excellence  to 
the  class  speculative,  to  which  belong  Mr.  Tremaine  and 
Mr.  James  Algernon  Harley.  If  the  reader  will  run  over 
his  list  of  acquaintances,  he  will,  I  am  sure,  recognize  some 
of  this  class  among  them.  They  are  persons  who,  having 
failed  in  business,  ordinarily  twice  or  thrice,  have  become 
disgusted  with  trade,  and  are  determined  to  take  a  short 
cut  to  wealth.  They  have  generally  good  connections,  so 
cially  and  otherwise.  Their  wives  spend  a  good  deal  of 
money,  and  do  not  know  but  that  it  is  as  easy  for  their  hus 
bands  to  furnish  it  as  it  was  when  they  were  in  the  whole 
sale  business.  These  people  are  very  respectable.  They 
are  in  the  best  society.  It  is  true  a  few  of  them  were  dis 
appointed  in  getting  tickets  to  the  Prince's  ball  last  year, 
but  it  was  because  things  were  not  managed  in  the  usual 
way,  and  their  cards  were  disposed  of  to  the  presidents, 
cashiers  and  tellers  of  the  larger  banks.  But  generally,  no 
such  injustice  is  rendered  to  the  class  aforesaid.  A  portion 
confine  themselves  to  the  "  home  consumption  ;"  they  watch 
an  opportunity  when  a  piece  of  property  goes  for  half 
price,  and  by  getting  an  advance  from  a  wealthy  friend, 
mfinage  to  control  it  long  enough  to  sell  it  again  for  some 
thing  near  its  value,  and  so  realize  a  handsome  profit  from 
it.  Or  they  encounter  the  owner  of  a  coal-bed  in  Pennsyl 
vania  or  Maryland,  and,  like  Tremaine,  start  a  company  out 
of  nothing  and  work  off  the  shares ;  or  they  meet  a  man 
with  a  good  invention,  and  getting  the  control  of  it,  find 


254  UNDE  EOF  B  EENTS 

parties  who  will  take  it  up,  advance  what  money  is  neces 
sary,  and  allow  a  handsome  sum  from  its  earnings. 

The  operations  of  the  other  portion  are  more  extended ; 
they  vibrate  generally  between  London,  Paris  and  New 
York  ;  they  follow  the  run  of  the  money  market,  and  "  put 
up"  where  it  is  most  plentiful.  From  1849  to  1854  it  was 
a  perpetual  gala  day  for  .the  travelled  class  abroad.  From 
the  quieting  of  the  railway  crisis  in  England,  in  1847,  to 
the  breaking  out  of  the  Russian  war,  in  1854,  London  was 
the  favorite  arena  for  the  American  speculator.  No  lesson 
of  experience  can  teach  John  Bull.  He  is  an  incurable 
schemer.  No  person  is  so  easily  galled  if  you  will  but  lay 
the  scene  a  good  way  off.  He  is  used  to  distances — India 
and  Australia,  for  example.  And  he  was  completely  gorged 
during  the  years  just  mentioned  with  all  sorts  of  schemes, 
inventions,  grants,  charters,  mines  and  patent-rights  from 
over  the  water.  This  gave  brisk  employment  to  the  class 
to  which  Mr.  James  Algernon  Harley  belonged. 

The  gentlemen  who  compose  this  class  are  really  gentle 
men.  To  be  sure  the  regular  man  of  business,  who  has  a 
sure  and  reliable  occupation,  turns  up  his  nose  at  them. 
Would  not  take  their  notes  for  eighteen-pence,  and  sneers 
at  the  idea  of  their  ever  paying  their  debts.  Herein  great 
injustice  is  done  them.  It  is  true  this  class  are  generally 
so  situated  that  an  execution  against  their  goods  and  chat 
tels  would  probably  reach  nothing  of  consequence.  They 
board  at  a  first-class  hotel,  and  have  nothing  to  move  when 
they  change  their  lodgings,  but  their  luggage.  Still  these 
people  are  not  dishonorable  or  dishonest.  Sometimes,  but 
not  often,  for  they  seldom  take  risks,  they  get  swamped  in 


OF     WALL-STREET.  255 

a  large  transaction  ;  but  if  they  do,  it  is  not  the  petty  cred 
itor  who  suffers.  At  times  they  are  hard  pressed  for  money, 
driven  nearly  to  the  wall ;  but  something  turns  up  to  re 
lieve  them,  and  just  as  you  expect  to  see  one  die  out  abso 
lutely,  you  find  him  rearrayed  in  fresh  plumage,  on  the  top 
of  a  new  and  successful  adventure.  I  repeat,  these  people 
are  generally  agreeable,  kind-hearted,  over-plausible,  it  is 
true,  but  well-connected,  and  in  good  society. 

Reader,  I  confess,  in  the  character  I  here  endeavor  to  de 
pict,  I  have  some  difficulty  in  drawing  the  line  between 
what  is  honest,  and  right,  and  true,  and  its  opposite.  I 
confess  that  while  I  have  a  strong  conviction,  that  the  life 
these  people  live  is  not  the  life  to  lead,  and  is  such  a  life  as 
I  would  not  lead,  yet  there  is  another  set  of  men  who  are  to 
me  much  more  repulsive.  Do  not  start — I  mean  the  hard- 
visaged,  sharp-cut,  angular,  mathematically  honest  man ! 
You  know  such  a  person,  and  perhaps  you  dread  his  com 
panionship  as  much  as  I.  Perhaps  you  don't.  Perhaps 
you  are  the  identical  man  himself!  A  man  honest  not  from 
principle,  but  from  a  cold  temperament,  and  a  right-angled 
conformation.  A  man  who  never  violated  a  moral  rule ; 
who,  in  the  language  of  his  friends,  can  be  trusted  with  un 
told  gold.  Who  performs  and  exacts  to  the  uttermost  far 
thing.  Who  could  riot  cheat  you  in  accounts,  because  it 
would  disturb  the  proportions  of  his  ledger.  Who  is  with 
out  an  impulse,  an  emotion,  a  desire.  Every  thing  with 
him  is  by  scale  and  measure,  this  or  that ;  all  justice,  no 
mercy  ;  all  requirement,  no  allowance. 

Such  men  are  always  rich  men,  because  they  are  eminent 
ly  selfish.  Selfish  and  successful  (as  the  world  calls  sue- 


256  UNDERCURRENTS 

cess)  being  true  alliterations.  To  these  persons  the  Eastern 
proverb  applies  :  "  The  extreme  of  right  is  the  extreme  of 
wrong." 

To  return  to  the  class  speculative.  The  persons  of  this 
class  are  pleasant  companions,  and  generous  in  their  expen 
diture  while  their  money  lasts.  If  bachelors,  they  occupy 
in  the  favorite  hotel  a  seat  next  the  host,*  and  are  sur 
rounded  by  good  fellows  at  least  five  deep.  The  best  wines 
are  called  for  without  stint,  and  the  dinner  is  prolonged 
always  into  the  evening.  If  married,  a  similar  scale  is  in 
dulged  in,  but  in  a  different  way.  There  are  parties  to  at 
tend,  an  opera-box,  and  possibly  a  carriage  (if  matters  have 
gone  right)  to  provide  for.  When  things  go  adversely,  the 
scene  changes,  an  economical  scale  is  submitted  to,  and 
they  wait  for  another  turn  of  the  wheel.  And  so  they 
manage  to  preserve  a  great  deal  of  this  life's  romance, 
which  is  the  true  essence  of  life,  after  all,  and  which  the 
treadmill  man  of  business  loses  completely  and  forever  by 
his  iron  course  of  existence. 

The  fascination  which  attends  the  labors  of  the  class  spec 
ulative  is  easily  understood;  There  is  a  great  charm  in  a 
pursuit  where  room  is  left  for  the  imagination  to  have  full 
sway.  What  cannot  be  reduced  to  a  certainty,  but  is  en 
tirely  subject  to  the  calculations  of  a  sanguine  temperament, 
is  sure  to  afford  extraordinary  pleasure  and  gratification ; 
and  while,  after  various  experiences,  I  would  avoid  the 


*  It  is  proper  to  state,  for  the  benefit  of  the  reader  who  resides  out  of  New  York, 
that  in  pome  of  the  fashionable  hotels  (Anglice  taverns)  of  this  city,  the  proprietor 
(Anirlice  landlord)  is  accustomed  to  sit  at  the  head  of  the  bachelors'  table,  and  by  pat 
ronizing  smiles  and  gestures  manifest  his  approbation  of  those  of  his  "guests"  who 
spend  money  most  freely — decorous  and  praiseworthy  habit  this. 


OF      WALL-STKEET.  257 

career  of  these  people,  I  still  admit  an  extraordinary  sym 
pathy  with  them. 

I  beg  to  be  distinctly  understood,  that  in  the  classification 
I  have  made  I  do  not  include  another  species  of  the  genus 
speculator,  which  also  figures  conspicuously  in  the  annals  of 
the  "  street."  Those  I  have  just  described  are  respectable. 
Those  I  am  about  to  describe  are  not.  There  are,  by  the 
way,  other  speculators,  whom  it  is  unnecessary  to  notice  in 
this  -connection,  whose  transactions  are  ordinary  and  com 
monplace.  Among  them  is  the  real  estate  operator,  who 
spends  his  time  in  changing  city  property  into  country,  and 
then  back  into  city,  rarely  touching  any  money,  but  always 
getting  an  excellent  trade !  the  dealer  in  wild  lands ;  the  in 
dividuals  who  speculate  at  auctions,  and  so  forth,  and  who 
are  well-meaning  people  in  their  way.  The  class  I  now  re 
fer  to  is  the  counterfeit  of  the  first  class ;  a  counterfeit  so 
admirably  got  up  that  it  is  sure  to  deceive  on  first  inspec 
tion.  The  appearance  and  habits  of  both  are  alike,  so  also 
the  associates  and  the  associations.  The  man  of  this  class 
affects  the  same  transactions,  and  boards  at  the  same  hotels. 
He,  too,  visits  London  and  Paris,  and  is  mixed  with  various 
schemes  and  adventures ;  but  there  is  one  grand  distinction 
between  the  two.  The  counterfeit  has  not  a  particle  of  hon 
esty  in  his  composition,  and  he  never  pays  his  debts.  To 
be  sure,  he  is  full  of  talk  about  honor  and  honorable  men, 
he  himself,  according  to  his  own  showing,  is  an  honorable 
man.  If  any  one  presumes  to  doubt  it  he  shall  insist  on  an 
explanation.  I  said  this  sort  of  person  never  pays  his  debts. 
I  am  wrong ;  he  does  sometimes  pay,  but  it  is  only  when  he 
thinks  he  can  double  his  indebtedness  in  the  same  quarter 


258  UN  DERC  U  BKENTS 

by  doing  so.  When  lie  comes  to  town,  he  decides  what 
hotel  he  will  patronize,  and  generally  manages  to  bring,  or 
appear  to  bring,  by  arriving  in  their  company,  several  re 
spectable  persons  along  with  him,  and  thus  at  the  start  put 
the  landlord  under  obligations  to  him.  Once  established, 
he  calls  for  very  expensive  wines,  and  thus  induces  others 
to  do  the  same.  He  frequently  sends  to  the  office  for  ten 
dollars,  and  tells  the  people  to  put  it  in  the  bill.  He  takes 
occasion  to  make  a  confidant  of  the  landlord — invites  him 
to  his  room,  shows  him  thousands  and  tens  of  thousands  of 
dollars  of  fresh,  alluring,  bright-looking  certificates  of  stock 
in  a  dozen  different  companies  about  to  be  launched,  and  ex 
plains,  of  course,  apropos  de  rien,  how  it  takes  all  one's 
spare  cash  to  start  so  many  valuable  enterprises,  any  one  of 
wrhich,  when  started,  is  going  to  give  him  all  he  wants,  and 
he  confesses  himself,  in  consequence,  hard-up  for  ready 
money,  and  really  so  interests  the  good-natured  host  that 
he  feels  it  would  be  cruel  to  pester  his  guest  with  weekly 
bills,  as  is  customary.  In  short,  he  makes  up  his  mind, 
since  it  is  sure  to  be  paid  in  the  end — oh !  yes,  for  gentlemen 
always  pay  their  hotel  bills — he  can  afford  to  wait  on  so 
good  a  fellow,  who  talks  so  ingenuously  about  his  situation  ; 
besides,  the  landlord  reasons,  he  really  is  of  great  advantage 
to  the  house,  so  let  him  stay. 

This  man  belongs  to  a  set  of  what  I  term  picturesque 
rascals,  who  never  present  a  straight  line  or  plane  surface, 
but  who  deal  always  in  the  curvilinear ;  and  so  far  as  there 
are  grace  and  elegance  in  curves,  these  fellows  are  essentially 
graceful,  versatile,  and  what  I  call  picturesque.  What  is 
wonderful,  they  make  few  enemies.  When  our  friend  thinks 


OF      W  ALL-STBEET.  259 

it  time  to  leave  the  hotel,  it  is  because  his  various  enter 
prises  take  him  elsewhere.  These  enterprises  have  not  quite 
yet  culminated,  so  he  gives  the  landlord  a  note  at  ninety 
days  for  the  sum  due,  insists  on  leaving  four  times  that 
amount  in  good  stocks,  and  quits  the  house  as  a  gentleman 
should,  all  right.  In  the  same  way  he  arranges  with  his 
tailor  and  his  boot-maker.  He  manages  so  to  put  every 
one  of  these  people  under  some  species  of  obligation  to 
him,  through  his  zeal  in  recommending  customers,  or  by 
doing  them  some  little  favor,  that  they  can't  for  the  life 
of  them,  abuse  him.  Now,  if  our  gentleman  was  really  a 
sanguine,  enthusiastic  man,  who  expected  to  succeed,  and 
who  really  hoped  to  pay  one  day,  one  could  have  some  char 
ity  for  him ;  but  this  is  not  so.  He  is  a  cool,  calculating, 
adroit  knave ;  his  blood  is  cetaceous,  not  a  warm  impulse 
beats  in  his  heart.  He  makes  up  his  mind  not  only  that  the 
"  w^orld  owes  him  a  living,"  but  it  also  owes  him  champagne, 
oyster  suppers,  a  fast  horse,  good  dinners,  the  best  Otard 
brandy  and  Havana  cigars ;  a  good  seat  at  the  opera  and 
theatre,  and  so  forth — a  great  deal  being  contained  in  that 
"  and  so  forth."  Since  the  world  owes  him  these  he  helps 
himself  to  them ;  and  since  the  world  is  wide,  and  metro 
politan  cities  large,  with  an  ever-shifting  population,  he,  with 
his  nice  discriminating  qualities,  collects  his  dues  judiciously, 
and  manages  his  various  expedients  as  the  Scotchman  is 
said  to  get  drunk — soberly  and  with  discretion. 


260  UNDERCURRENTS 


CHAPTER    XVIII. 

WAS    I     RELIGIOUS? 

I  AM  about  to  touch  on  another  topic.  I  was  for  a  time 
undecided  whether  or  not  to  carry  it  along  with  ray  narra 
tive,  but  as  it  is  intimately  associated  with  my  reverse  of 
fortune,  and  as  I  desire  this  reverse  and  its  consequences  to 
be  fully  presented,  I  determine  to  do  so.  I  refer  to  my  re 
ligious  feelings. 

I  have  already  mentioned  that  I  was  subject,  to  a  consid 
erable  degree,  to  what  I  believed  to  be  a  kind  of  sentimental 
piety,  springing  from  a  desolate  sense  of  my  misfortunes 
and  an  instinctive  desire  to  find  a  safe  shelter  from  them. 
My  good  sense  rejected  all  this  as  not  genuine.  So  that  I 
finally  discarded  it  when  it  appeared,  as  a  make-believe — a 
mock  sentimentality  born  out  of  mere  weakness  under  the 
pressure  of  surrounding  troubles.  After  I  had  become  es 
tablished  in  my  humble  abode,  and  my  mind  was  more  calm, 
I  began  to  reflect.  The  sacred  lessons  of  my  childhood 
were  not  lost  on  me ;  they  now  came  up  with  full  force. 
As  I  have  already  remarked,  I  was  not  what  is  called  "  re 
ligious."  My  wife  was  a  member  of  the  church,  exemplary 
and  good,  if  mortal  ever  was.  I  myself  was  a  believer  in 
the  truths  of  our  holy  religion.  But  I  had  never  felt  the 
need  of  its  "  saving  influence,"  which  clergymen  tell  us 
must  be  experienced  in  order  to  secure  a  change  of  heart. 


OF      WALL-STREET.  201 

After  I  had  become  domesticated  in  our  new  abode,  it 
seemed  as  if  GOD  was  nearer  to  me  than  in  the  handsome 
house  in  Broadway.  I  frequently  felt  the  desire  to  pray  to 
Hnr.  But  I  repressed  it.  I  could  not  escape  from  the  con 
viction  that  it  was  a  mockery  to  supplicate  my  MAKER  now, 
when  I  had  neglected  to  do  so  in  the  days  of  my  prosperity. 
Yet  I  frequently  felt  in  that  little  quiet  home,  shut  out  from 
the  world  and  so  forgotten  by  the  world,  a  wish  to  com 
mune  with  GOD,  a  desire  to  rise  to  the  height  of  true 
piety,  to  be  a  good  man.  But,  I  say,  I  could  not  act  on  this. 
I  dare  not  undertake  it  as  a  genuine  performance.  Place 
me  suddenly  back,  with  hundreds  of  thousands  at  my  com 
mand,  and  what  Avould  become  of  the  religious  instinct  ? 
where  would  go  those  pious  aspirations  ? 

"  When  the  devil  was  sick, 
The  devil  a  monk  would  be ; 
When  the  devil  got  well, 
The  devil  a  monk  was  he  1" 

I  repeated  frequently  to  myself  as  I  asked  the  question. 

You  see,  reader,  I  could  not  afford,  poor  as  I  was  and  al 
most  starving,  to  become  a  hypocrite  or  even  a  self-deceiver. 
I  did  not  dare  to  trifle  with  subjects  which  concerned  the 
GREAT  future.  But  I  did  feel  that  PROVIDENCE  would  sooner 
or  later  work  out  in  me  His  own  purposes. 

There  is  nothing  to  compare  with  the  grand  Calvinistic 
doctrine  of  INDIVIDUALITY,  which  admits  the  idea  that  every 
human  being  is  the  direct  and  immediate  subject  of  GOD'S 
watchful  regard,  working  heroism  out  of  the  egotism  of 
mortal  man.  In  no  such  strong  degree  did  I  feel  faith  or 
courage.  Yet  I  did  believe  out  of  these  stormy  trials  I 


262  UNDERCURRENTS 

should  by-and-by  come,  purified  as  by  fire.  So  I  daily  asked 
myself  the  question  :  "  If  you  were  restored  to  wealth,  how 
would  you  feel  ?  what  would  you  do  ?"  And  so  long  as  I 
could  not  answer  it,  except  to  say  I  should  become  as  I  was 
in  the  former  days,  I  knew  I  could  not  take  credit  for  any 
change  of  feeling  or  purpose. 

At  length  I  began,  as  I  thought,  to  gain  fairer  and  clearer 
views  of  "duty,"  and  to  enjoy  more  of  that  calm  spirit 
which  is  so  comforting,  when  my  acquaintance  with  Harley 
commenced.  Its  effect  on  these  religious  developments  was 
unfriendly  and  chilling.  The  thoughts  and  emotions  I  was 
attempting  to  cultivate,  and  which  were,  as  I  was  convinced, 
to  afford  me  happiness  and  tranquillity,  now  gave  place  to 
feverish  and  disturbed  ideas,  until  the  former  got  to  be  dis 
tasteful.  I  asked  myself  why  this  change  ?  Was  there 
any  thing  about  Harley,  or  what  he  proposed,  which  should 
in  any  way  conflict  with  my  sense  of  right  and  honesty;  if 
not,  why  should  I  not  yield  to  some  of  the  pleasurable  sen 
sations  which  his  presence  always  produced  ?  Might  it  not, 
on  the  other  hand,  be  possible  that  the  feelings  I  was  en 
deavoring  to  cherish  were  sombre,  morbid,  unnatural,  not 
the  result  of  a  manly  effort  to  do  right,  but  developed,  as  I 
have  hinted,  by  the  depressing  circumstances  which  encom 
passed  me  ? 

I  shall  not  here  answer  the  question,  but  leave  the  reader 
to  trace  out  the  response  to  it  as  the  narrative  proceeds. 


OF     WALL-STREET.  263 


CHAPTER    XIX. 

ALWORTIIY      AND      COMPANY. 

ALWORTIIY  and  Company  failed  just  three  weeks  after 
my  negotiation  of  their  paper.  It  turned  out  that  for  sev 
eral  months  previous  they  were  in  the  habit  of  putting  their 
own  notes  on  the  market,  for  the  purpose  of  raising  money. 
They  had  also  exchanged  acceptances  largely  with  other 
houses,  for  the  same  object,  and  their  speculations  turning 
out  badly,  they  broke. 

There  was  considerable  sensation  in  the  street  at  the  an 
nouncement.  As  is  usual  in  such  instances,  the  assets  were 
nil,  after  protecting  the  "  confidential."  In  fact,  the  con 
cern  was  at  the  time  of  stopping  payment  a  mere  shell. 
There  was  also  a  good  deal  of  fluttering  among  the  houses 
who  were  really  solvent,  and  who  had  exchanged  notes 
with  Alworthy,  in  the  belief  that  he  was  so.  With  others 
it  proved  an  even  thing,  since  both  were  worthless.  Among 
these  last,  I  fear,  might  be  classed  our  new  friends  Pollock, 
Pemberton,  Ilollis  and  Company.  They  had  given  Alwor 
thy  about  ten  thousand  dollars  of  their  promises  to  pay, 
and  had  received  a  like  amount  from  him.  As  these  last 
were  negotiated  with  their  indorsement,  both  amounts 
would  come  against  them.  Now-a-days  they  manage  these 
matters  better,  by  having  notes  drawn  to  the  order  of  the 
makers,  and  indorsed  only  by  them  ;  and  if  they  will  sell  as 


264  UNDERCURRENTS 

"  single-name  paper,"  all  responsibility  is  avoided.  Except 
in  a  great  crisis,  which  carries  down  business-men  suddenly, 
and  in  battalions,  the  knowing  ones  soon  discover  signs  of 
probable  disaster  in  a  firm,  which  is  evidenced  by  a  gradual 
rise  in  the  rate  at  which  their  notes  can  be  disposed  of,  till 
they  become  unsalable.  Still  there  is  a  class  of  shrewd  but 
greedy  money-lenders,  who  are  tempted  by  high  prices  to 
purchase  paper  of  this  sort,  and  who  sometimes  meet  with 
a  heavy  loss,  but  always  charge  enormous  rates. 

I  was  a  good  deal  exercised  when  I  learned  early  one 
morning  of  the  failure,  for  fear  it  would  prove  calamitous 
to  Harley.  He  came  in  my  office  shortly  after,  and  put  me 
quite  at  ease  on  the  subject. 

"  Have  you  heard  the  news  about  Alworthy  ?"  he  said. 

I  told  him  I  had. 

"  I  confess  I  have  had  my  suspicions  ever  since  that  sec 
ond  batch  of  paper,  which  I  knew  nothing  of  when  I  offered 
you  the  first.  However,  my  name  is  not  mixed  up  with 
them,  thank  fortune." 

"  But  I  thought  you  were  interested  with  Pollock,  Pem- 
berton,  Hollis  and  Company  ?" 

"  Interested  ?  not  to  the  amount  of  a  penny.  It  is  true  I 
have  known  Pollock  for  a  long  time,  a  first-rate  fellow;  and 
as  I  wanted  an  office  for  a  few  months,  I  took  the  furnished 
one  directly  over  theirs.  I  had,  besides,  a  little  operation 
with  them,  by  which  I  received  the  most  of  the  Alworthy 
paper,  and  paid  them  a  certain  amount  in  cash,  and  the  bal 
ance  in  real  estate.  I  am  quite  satisfied  with  the  bargain. 
They  tried  unsuccessfully  in  several  quarters  to  sell  the 
notes,  and  this  fact  helped  me  in  the  trade.  So  you  see  I 


OF      WALL-STBEET.  265 

am  more  obliged  to  you  than  you  supposed  for  negotiating 
them." 

"  But  I  understood  you  to  say  they  had  abundant  capi 
tal." 

"  So  they  had,  for  their  regular  business.  You  see  Hollis 
is  a  little  wild  by  turns,  and  his  father,  who  is  a  rich  man, 
put  in  ten  thousand  dollars  for  the  sake  of  establishing  his 
son.  But  they  got  to  be  too  ambitious,  and  struck  out 
light  and  left.  At  last  they  fell  in  with  Alworthy,  who  is 
as  smooth  and  keen  as  a  razor,  and  he  put  very  expansive 
notions  in  their  heads." 

"I  declare,"  I  exclaimed  with  some  warmth,  "had  I 
known  all  this,  I  would  not  have  offered  the  notes." 

"And  had  I  known  it,"  replied  Harley,  "I  should  not 
have  taken  them.  Now,  pray,  don't  put  such  a  long  face  on 
the  matter,"  he  continued,  seeing  I  looked  grave.  "You 
remind  me  of  the  Englishman  who  was  miserable  all  his  life 
for  fear  his  country  would  never  be  able  to  pay  the  national 
debt.  The  loss  in  this  case  falls  just  where  it  ought  to 
fall,  on  the  note-shavers.  They  take  the  risk,  and  charge 
accordingly,  and  they  must  accept  the  fortune  of  war.  Had 
Alworthy's  speculations  in  cotton  turned  out  differently,  all 
would  be  right." 

"  True,"  I  remarked,  "  but  Alworthy  was  reckless.  His 
transactions  were  not  legitimate.  He  was  a  gambler,  and 
nothing  else." 

"My  good  friend,"  replied  Harley,  "I  am  sorry  to  see  a 
man  of  your  excellent  sense  misled  by  that  humbug  word 
1  legitimate.'  As  to  Alworthy's  being  a  gambler,  I  can  only 

say,  all  trade  is  but  gambling;  a  bold  bet  against  Providence, 
12 


266  U  N  D  E  R  C  U  H  K  E  X  T  S 

that  there  will  be  such  and  such  a  market,  and  such  and 
such  a  supply,  on  which  depend  such  and  such  risks,  and 
such  and  such  profits.  Yes,  a  merchant  is  not  only  a  gam 
bler,  but  the  most  unfortunate  and  most  miserable  of  the 
whole  gambling  class.  He  never  knows,  like  the  man  who 
risks  on  the  red  or  the  black,  just  where  he  stands.  His 
results  cannot  be  calculated  speedily  like  those  of  the  stock 
gambler,  but  he  is  forced  to  take  hazard  after  hazard  before 
any  one  of  his  ventures  is  determined.  His  fate,  too,  is 
dependent  on  the  good  or  bad  management  of  others,  and 
is  so  mixed  up  with  incidents  and  occurrences  beyond  his 
control,  that  I  repeat,  I  pronounce  him  the  most  unfortu 
nate  gambler  of  them  all.  I  have  been  fifteen  years  in  busi 
ness,  have  failed  twice,  went  through  the  horrors  of  those 
in  purgatory.  I  don't  mean  to  gamble  any  more  in  trade. 
So,  pray,  don't  talk  to  me  so  sanctimoniously  about  '  legiti 
mate  transactions.'  " 

I  perceived  that  I  had  touched  a  delicate  point,  and  I  did 
not  debate  the  subject.  Indeed,  there  w^as  matter  for  reflec 
tion  in  Harley's  observations. 

"  Come,"  he  said  cheerfully,  after  a  little  pause,  "  let  us 
speak  of  something  else.  I  must  get  ready  for  the  other 
side,  and  you  must  make  yourself  master  of  all  the  particu 
lars  of  my  various  enterprises,  for  much  will  have  to  be  done 
here.  Soon  you  will  retrieve  your  fortunes,  and  you  shall 
confess  how  much  more  satisfactory  our  labors  are  than  any 
you  have  heretofore  undertaken." 

I  was  as  usual  lifted  up  above  ordinary  events  by  the 
seductive  language  of  this  man.  We  sat  down  to  examine 
his  several  projects.  I  was  surprised  to  see  with  wiiat 


OF      WALL-STREET.  267 

order  and  precision  all  his  documents  were  prepared.  Cer 
tified  copies  of  charters  ;  original  patents  ;  searches  of  title  ; 
powers  of  attorney,  which  were  always  "  full"  powers  in 
the  largest  extent ;  accurate  descriptions  of  property,  and 
so  forth,  and  so  forth.  It  was  amazing  to  witness  the  read 
iness  and  the  versatility  which  Harley  displayed  in  explain 
ing  his  plans  for  each  particular  scheme.  This  would  be 
"brought  out  by  a  company  under  the  limited  responsibility 
act.  That,  he  was  certain  a  well-known  broker  would  take 
up.  Another  would  engage  the  attention  of  his  solicitors, 
who  would  manage  all  the  details.  Haiiey's  head-quarters 
would  be  at  Morley's,  then  the  resort  for  the  majority  of 
Americans  in  London. 

The  day  was  consumed  in  these  various  examinations. 
When  I  rose  to  go  home,  I  was  myself  so  much  elated  that 
I  forgot  I  had  quite  neglected  some  important  business  for 
a  valuable  constituent,  and  that  it  was  now  too  late  to  at 
tend  to  it.  Indeed,  I  had.  begun  to  taste  the  intoxicating 
sweets  which  are  a  part  of  the  luxuries  of  the  class  specu 
lative;  my  former  operations  seemed  so  insignificant  com 
pared  with  what  now  lay  before  me.  As  I  walked  up 
Broadway,  I  looked  with  some  sort  of  pity  on  the  hard 
workers  pushing  homeward. 

What  a  glorious  hallucination  !  What  an  ecstatic  state 
of  brilliant  hopes  and  joys ! 


268  U  N  DE  EC  URll  EXTS 


CHAPTER  XX. 

THE   STORY   OP   RALPH   HITCHCOCK. 

RALPH  HITCHCOCK  was  my  classmate  in  college,  and  I 
was  perhaps  more  intimate  with  him  than  with  any  other 
student.  He  was  an  orphan,  and  was  adopted  at  the  age 
of  fourteen,  and  educated  by  his  uncle,  who  was  rich.  This 
uncle  had  sent  Ralph  to  Europe.  On  his  return,  he  took 
up  his  residence  in  Cincinnati,  and  shortly  after  married  a 
young  lady  from  New  York.  He  occasionally  visited  this 
city,  and  when  he  did  was  invariably  my  guest.  He  rose 
rapidly  in  his  profession,  for  he  was  a  man  of  brilliant 
genius,  but  his  life  was  clouded  by  a  great  misfortune — the 
loss  of  his  children.  When  I  saw  him  last,  in  1838,  the 
eldest  and  only  remaining  of  four,  a  daughter,  had  just  been 
snatched  away.  She  was  a  lovely  child,  about  ten  years 
old.  I  never  saw  him  dispirited  before. 

"My  friend,"  he  said,  "they  are  all  gone,  and  I  do  not 
want  to  live  any  longer."  He  returned  to  his  home  more 
gloomy  than  when  he  left  it ;  and  in  the  autumn  was  seized 
with  a  bilious  fever  of  a  malignant  type,  and  died.  I  was  ac 
quainted  with  no  particulars,  but  supposed  my  friend's  cir 
cumstances  were  prosperous,  for  so  he  had  in  general  led 
me  to  believe.  And,  putting  away  in  my  heart  the  recol 
lection  of  our  early  and  later  intercourse,  as  one  of  the  hap- 


OF      WALL-STREET.  269 

piest  and  saddest  of  my  memories,  I  little  thought  another 
scene  out  of  that  drama  was  still  to  be  presented. 

I  called  on  Mrs.  Hitchcock  the  day  following  the  night- 
scene  which  I  have  already  described.  I  found  her  appa 
rently  pretty  well,  and  quietly  engaged  with  her  needle. 
She  received  me  politely,  but  without  a  particle  of  alacrity 
or  enthusiasm.  She  exhibited  the  spectacle  of  a  refined 
and  gentle  nature,  so  broken  by  a  hard  destiny  as  to  lose 
all  sympathy  with  this  world's  currents,  while  she  calmly 
awaited  the  termination  of  her  fate.  Even  when  I  stated 
my  intimate  relations  with  her  husband,  I  could  not  perceive 
that  her  eye  quickened,  or  that  her  countenance  gave  any 
sign  of  increased  interest.  Still  she  conversed  freely  with 
me,  and  gave  a  clear  but  condensed  account  of  what  had 
transpired  since  her  husband's  death. 

It  appeared  the  young  doctor  had  offended  his  uncle,  by 
going  to  the  West  to  commence  practice,  instead  of  settling 
in  New  York.  Ralph  was  of  an  impatient  and  an  ambitious 
nature,  and  believed  he  could  rise  more  rapidly  in  that  fresh 
and  growing  region  than  in  an  older  place.  He  was  not  ob 
stinate,  but  high-strung.  His  uncle  reproached  him  for  his 
ingratitude.  His  reply  was,  "  Whoever  reminds  one  of  an 
obligation  cancels  it ;"  and  uncle  and  nephew  parted,  and 
never  met  again.  He  went  at  once  to  Cincinnati,  and,  as  I 
already  knew,  married  soon  after  an  interesting  girl  from 
New  York,  and  set  to  work  to  conquer  a  position.  He  suc 
ceeded.  Year  after  year  lie  sent  to  his  uncle,  without 
word  or  comment,  a  certain  sum,  until  he  had,  according  to 
a  liberal  calculation,  reimbursed  the  old  gentleman,  princi 
pal  and  interest,  for  every  possible  expenditure  incurred  on 


20  TJ  X  D  E  R  C  U  K  R  E  X  T  S 

his  account.  Hore  was  the  fault  of  my  friend's  nature,  half 
noble,  half  evil  in  its  origin ;  a  deep  and  perpetual  recollec 
tion  of  a  taunt  or  unjust  reproach.  Much  as  we  had  con 
ferred  together  by  letter  and  otherwise,  and  intimate  as  we 
had  been,  Ralph  never  alluded  to  any  disagreement  with 
his  uncle,  and  I  now  heard  of  it  for  the  first  time. 

Affairs  went  happily  with  Ralph  until  his  children  began 
to  die.  He  bore  up  against  the  repeated  blows  till,  as  I 
have  before  stated,  his  eldest  was  taken.  Then  it  was  the 
world  first  knew  what  a  sensitive  and  impressible  nature 
the  rapid,  energetic  medical  man  carried  about  under  the 
brusque  outside.  His  heart-strings  snapped.  In  vain  his 
wife,  herself  in  the  depths  of  affliction,  sought  to  console 
him.  It  had  no  effect.  And  so  the  fever  found  him  a  most 
favorable  subject,  without  any  nervous  resistance,  or  appa 
rently  vital  energy.  He  left  but  little  property  besides  his 
furniture  and  medical  library,  horses  and  carriage.  For  he 
had  lived  generously,  and,  like  too  many  professional  men, 
had  not  counted  on  what  "  after  death  befalls"  the  family 
who  are  left  behind. 

The  widow  struggled  on  for  a  while,  assisted  by  the  usual 
resource,  boarders.  "3Iatilda"  came  into  the  world  nearly 
six  months  after  the  death  of  her  husband.  She  was  em 
phatically  the  child  of  sorrow.  Unlike  the  other  children, 
she  resembled  her  father;  and  from  infancy  manifested 
great  maturity  of  mind.  With  this  she  exhibited  to  an  un 
happy  degree  the  peculiar  sensitiveness  which  was  in  him 
so  striking  a  characteristic.  She  was  full  of  every  generous 
and  tender  emotion,  affectionate  and  pitiful  in  the  extreme, 
but  proud,  quick,  violent,  and  impatient ;  very  passionate, 


OP      \V  A  L  L-  S  T  K  E  E  T .  271 

too,  on  occasions  ;  neither  obstinate  nor  wilful,  but  wayward 
and  fitful  as  the  wind.  Mrs.  Hitchcock,  unfortunately,  had 
yielded  to  her  imperious  temper;  the  more  so,  as  she  could 
see  her  husband  in  every  burst  and  outbreak;  exaggerated, 
it  is  true,  but  the  more  striking  because  exaggerated. 

After  several  years  of  hard  work  in  Cincinnati,  the  furni 
ture  needed  replenishing,  the  rent  of  the  house  was  increas 
ed,  two  of  her  best  boarders  had  gone  away,  and  Mrs. 
Hitchcock  was  in  despair.  About  this  time  she  received  a 
letter  from  a  cousin  in  New  York,  an  estimable  lady,  as  the 
world  esteems  people.  That  is,  she  was  rich;  she  was  a 
church-member.  She  contributed  largely  to  several  of  the 
city  benevolent  societies.  She  was  presidentess  of  one,  and 
a  directress  in  half-a-dozen.  She  was,  in  fact,  one  of  a  large 
class,  who,  like  the  Pharisee  of  old,  thank  GOD  they  are  not 
like  other  people.  This  lady  had  married  rather  late  in  life, 
had  been  blessed  with  one  child,  a  daughter ;  and,  as  it  hap 
pened,  just  the  age,  within  a  few  days,  of  the  pet  lamb  of 
the  widow  Hitchcock.  With  all  her  cold  philanthropy,  her 
formal  religion,  her  tiresome  deed- work,  her  labored  chari 
ties,  there  was  a  spot  in  this  woman's  heart  not  quite  cover 
ed  by  the  armor  of  self-righteousness  and  formality.  Slio 
loved  her  child.  That  single,  simple  outlet  from  an  arid, 
unproductive  heart,  betrayed  the  existence  of  a  vital  point. 
Her  cousin,  Mrs.  Hitchcock,  and  she  were  girls  together, 
were  at  school  together.  Then,  the  latter  was  in  a  far  bet 
ter  position  than  the  now  wife  of  a  rich  merchant,  and  was 
looked  up  to  accordingly.  But  things  had  changed.  Mary 
Anne,  then  a  bold  and  showy  girl,  had  made  a  "good 
match,"  and  finding  nothing  to  love  in  a  leather-hearted 


272  UNDERCURRENTS 

man,  twenty  years  her  senior,  had,  fortunately  for  herself 
(for  she  might  have  laid  hold  of  the  other  extreme,  and  dis 
graced  her  family),  taken  to  piety  for  occupation  of  her 
leisure  hours,  ambitiously  aspiring  to  lead  the  feminine  por 
tion  of  the  congregation.  Her  cousin  married,  too,  and  left 
for  Cincinnati.  Shortly  after,  Mrs.  Hitchcock's  father,  who 
was  a  lawyer,  departed  this  life,  and  like  most  lawyers,  who 
are  said  to  "  work  hard,  live  well,  and  die  poor,"  left  little 
for  his  widow,  who  went  to  take  up  her  abode  with  her 
only  child,  and  survived  her  husband  but  a  few  years. 

Mrs.  Lemuel  Dings,  for  some  reason  or  other,  always  kept 
up  a  correspondence  with  her  cousin,  Mrs.  Hitchcock. 
Perhaps  she  thought,  after  all,  that  the  old  uncle  would  re 
lent,  and  at  the  last  moment  leave  his  fortune  to  the  Hitch- 
cocks.  Perhaps  the  deference  the  family  paid  to  her  better 
position  in  society,  still  had  a  certain  influence  with  her. 
At  any  rate,  when  the  really  worldly-minded  but  professedly 
pious  Mrs.  Dings  found  a  visitor  which  she  had  talked  a  great 
deal  about,  preached  and  prayed  a  great  deal  about,  and 
professed  to  have  no  sort  of  fear  of,  suddenly  an  inmate  of 
her  house,  lodged  in  her  own  apartments,  close  to  what  was 
left  of  her  heart ;  when  DEATH  in  actual  presence  presented 
himself,  and  took — not  her  husband,  but  her  child ;  this 
poor  woman  was  desolate.  After  the  funeral  she  went 
about  the  house  very  sad.  She  found  no  consolation  in  those 
precious  promises  of  Scripture  which  she  used  to  make  such 
parade  of. 

After  a  time  she  remembered  the  child  of  her  cousin, 
how  handsome  it  was  when  she  last  saw  it,  only  the  year 
before,  during  a  tour  West  with  her  husband.  Then  she 


OF      WALL-STREET.  273 

contemplated  the  idea  of  adopting  that  child  for  her  own. 
It  never  occurred  to  her,  that  her  unfortunate  cousin  would 
herself  be  bereft  of  her  only  source  of  happiness,  should  shp 
succeed  in  stealing  away  her  daughter.  It  never  occurred 
to  her  to  let  her  charities  flow  in  the  direction  to  relieve 
that  cousin,  and  make  her  happy  with  her  child.  Oh  !  no, 
not  for  a  moment.  But  she  feared  to  write,  and  propose 
bluntly  to  receive  Matilda  and  adopt  her  as  her  own.  So 
she  wrote,  proposing  that  Mrs.  Hitchcock  should  remove 
from  Cincinnati  to  New  York.  She  explained  how  easy  it 
would  be,  with  the  influence  she,  Mrs.  Dings,  could  exert, 
for  her  cousin  to  live  very  -pleasantly,  and  support  herself 
very  comfortably  there.  This  letter  came  at  a  time  when 
Mrs.  Hitchcock  was  perplexing  herself  about  more  furniture 
and  how  to  pay  a  higher  rent.  The  poor  woman  began  to 
be  very  weary  of  life,  as  she  had  found  it  since  her  hus 
band's  decease,  and  she  welcomed  the  idea  of  getting  back 
to  her  native  city.  So,  after  some  correspondence  on  the 
subject,  but  without  settling  any  details,  she  decided  to 
come.  The  few  effects  remaining  to  her  were  sold  out,  and 
Mrs.  Hitchcock,  with  Matilda,  took  leave  of  Cincinnati. 

Arrived  at  New  York,  Mrs.  Dings  received  her  at  the 
steamboat  landing,  and  conveyed  her,  not  to  her  own  hand 
some  mansion  in  Fourteenth-street,  but  to  comfortable 
apartments  in  what  in  New  York  is  called  a  "  tenement- 
house,"  in  the  Sixth  Avenue.  Justice  to  Mrs.  Dings  com 
pels  me  to  say  that  the  building  was  new,  and  of  the  better 
description  of  that  class  of  edifices.  It  belonged  to  Mr. 
Dings,  who,  it  was  to  be  hoped,  would  not  prove  a  severe 
landlord.  The  fact  was,  Mrs.  Dings,  considering  the  situa- 
12* 


J)  E  E  C  U  R  ii  E  X  T  8 


tion  of  her  cousin,  and  the  very  slender  means  at  her  dis- 
posul,  had  really  calculated  judiciously  for  her  —  -judiciously, 
but  out  of  a  very  cold  heart.  Without  indulging  in  any 
generous  impulse,  she  had  come  to  the  icy  decision  as  to  just 
what  was  best  for  such  a  person  (that  is,  any  such  person, 
"cousin"  out  of  the  question),  in  just  that  reduced  situa 
tion.  She  intended,  not  because  she  indulged  in  any  kind 
emotion,  but  in  order  to  "  live  up  to  a  sense  of  duty/'  to 
throw  sufficient  needle-work  in  her  cousin's  way  to  enable 
her  to  support  herself.  Then,  in  due  time,  she  would  broach 
the  subject  of  adopting  Matilda.  Mrs.  Hitchcock,  though 
wounded  by  the  course  pursued  by  the  charitable  Mrs. 
Dings,  had  good  sense  enough  to  make  the  best  of  her 
situation. 

Matters  ran  along  for  nearly  a  twelvemonth.  Matilda 
was  growing  very  fast  ;  her  mother  began  to  feel  how 
necessary  education  was  for  her.  Mrs.  Dings,  who  had 
watched  the  progress  of  events,  finally  made  her  proposi 
tion,  at,  as  she  considered,  just  the  right  juncture.  The 
widow  could  not  listen  to  it.  But  poverty  is  a  great  per 
suader.  Ought  she,  at  length  she  asked  herself,  to  stand  in 
the  way  of  her  child's  advancement  ?  She  decided  she 
ought  not.  But  how  to  prevail  on  Matilda,  for  her  love  for 
her  mother  was  unbounded,  and  her  passionate  nature  would 
resist.  At  length  she  persuaded  her  to  make  the  experi 
ment.  The  child  was  not  insensible  to  the  allurements  of  a 
line  house  filled  with  servants,  a  handsome  carriage,  in 
which  she  was  to  ride,  and  a  large  variety  of  pretty  dresses. 
Her  mother  dared  not  tell  her  she  would  see  her  but 
seldom,  and  that  Mrs.  Dings  would  have  in  the  future 


OF      W  A  L  L-  S  T  K  E  E  T .  275 

entire  control  over  her  actions  in  her  place.  Well,  the 
change  was  made.  Mrs.  Hitchcock  kissed  her  child,  and 
gave  her  up  to  the  woman  who  had  coveted  her  so  much. 
She  previously  had  a  long  and  earnest  conversation  with 
Matilda,  in  which  she  enjoined  her,  by  the  memory  of  her 
father,  and  by  a  mother's  love,  to  curb  her  impatient  nature, 
and  restrain  her  violence  of  temper.  Matilda's  promises 
were  interrupted  by  tears  and  hysteric  sobs. 

Three  days  passed  without  incident.  Mrs.  Hitchcock  was 
very  lonely,  and  was  beginning  to  feel  she  could  not  endure 
the  separation,  when  late  in  the  afternoon  Matilda  rushed 
into  the  room,  and  threw  herself  into  her  arms,  exclaiming : 
"  I  will  never  go  back,  I  will  never  go  back.  The  woman 
wants  me  to  call  her  "  mother.'  She  says  I  must  call  her 
4  mother.'  I  will  not  do  it,  I  will  not.  You  are  my  mother. 
I  will  call  no  one  mother  but  you  !" 

This  was  the  denouement  of  the  selfish  scheme  of  Mrs. 
Dings  to  rob  the  poor  widow  of  her  only  child.  I  am  forced 
to  record  that  with  its  failure  she  ceased  to  take  any  interest 
in  her  cousin's  affairs,  and  soon  managed  to  lose  sight  of  her 
altogether. 

Mrs.  Hitchcock  did  her  best  to  support  herself  and  daugh 
ter.  The  latter  had  become  skilful  with  the  needle,  and 
though  impatient  of  restraint,  worked  industriously  for  her 
mother's  sake,  yet  always  manifesting  evidences  of  a  proud, 
haughty,  self-willed  nature.  She  would  not  humbly  submit 
to  her  destiny ;  she  revolted  against  it.  She  became  more 
and  more  bitter  toward  the  world,  and  looked  with  almost 
hatred  on  the  rich.  She  delighted  at  times  to  go  into  the 
streets,  dressed  like  a  pauper,  and  watch  with  feelings  al- 


276  U  XDERC  UKK  EXTS 

most  of  malignity  the  carriages  as  they  rolled  along.  At 
thirteen  she  had  acquired  nearly  the  stature  of  a  woman, 
and  her  poor  mother  was  sadly  exercised  about  her,  since  her 
expanding  beauty  already  attracted  the  attention  of  all  who 
encountered  her. 

Such  was  the  story  which  I  gathered  from  the  widow, 
and  from  facts  which  afterward  came  to  my  knowledge. 
It  appeared  Mrs.  Hitchcock  had  never,  before  that  stormy 
night,  been  attacked  in  such  a  manner.  I  found  she  was  not 
in  actual  want  of  the  necessaries  of  life,  but  it  was  evident 
her  constitution  was  fast  breaking  down,  and  that  her  days 
were  numbered.  After  gleaning  this  history,  I  repeated  it 
to  Alice,  who  the  next  day  paid  Mrs.  Hitchcock  and  her 
daughter  a  visit.  What  resulted  from  it,  the  reader  shall 
learn  in  due  time. 


OF      WALL-STREET.  277 


CHAPTER    XXI. 

D  A  Y-D  BE  AM  S. 

A  GREAT  change  came  over  the  appearance  of  my  office. 
From  a  quiet,  retired  room,  with  few  visitors,  it  was  trans 
ferred  into  a  bustling,  active  place,  filled  with  people  from 
morning  till  night,  very  agreeable  people  too.  They  were 
generally  the  parties  originally  interested  in  the  schemes 
which  Harley  had  undertaken.  For,  since  the  Alworthy 
failure,  my  friend  had  thought  best  to  remove  his  office  from 
Pollock's,  especially  as  he  had  concluded  not  to  engage  with 
that  firm,  as  he  at  first  intended,  in  shipping  pure  spirits  to 
Bordeaux  and  have  it  returned  a  first-rate  article  of  French 
brandy,  to  be  sold  in  bond.  The  consequence  was,  since 
Harley  expected  to  leave  in  a  few  weeks  for  Europe,  and  I 
was  to  be  so  closely  interested  with  him,  we  thought  it  best 
he  should  remove  to  my  office,  which,  by  the  ready  adapta 
tion  of  a  large  screen,  we  easily  converted  into  two  rooms. 

I  now  became  fully  acquainted  with  the  class  ycleped 
"non-industrial"  by  severe  and  rigid  people.  I  recollect 
being  most  interested  in  a  gentleman  who  wished  to  call 
attention  to  the  harbor  of  Brunswick  in  Georgia,  a  neglected 
position,  and  claimed  to  be  one  of  the  best  havens  on  the 
whole  line  of  coast.  It  was  proposed  to  erect  a  city  there 
in  place  of  the  few  scattering  houses,  and  make  it  the  en 
trepot  for  Georgia  pine  betwixt  the  interior  and  England. 


278  UNDERCURRENTS 

This  man  was  very  sanguine  of  becoming  a  millionaire  and 
of  making  Harley  a  millionaire  also.  He  was  a  liberal, 
whole-souled  fellow,  who  was  possessed  of  a  large  landed 
property  in  Georgia,  and  was  desirous  to  avail  himself  of 
Harley's  genius  to  make  it  available.  He  lived  well :  ate 
good  dinners,  drank  good  wines,  and  waited  with  patient 
good-nature  for  the  auspicious  day  when  English  capital 
should  cross  the  water,  guided  by  the  extraordinary  talent 
of  his  friend  (to  whom  he  had  given  a  written  contract  to 
share  equally),  and  proceed  to  develop  the  resources  of  his 
native  state  in  a  manner  serviceable  to  all  parties. 

It  is  quite  unnecessary  to  make  mention  of  the  many 
schemes  presented  to  Harley,  which  were  at  once  rejected 
as  altogether  too  visionary  or  impracticable.  One,  however, 
I  will  allude  to,  and  hope  an  old  acquaintance  will  pardon 
me  for  recalling  an  instance  when  his  usual  good  sense  and 
shrewdness  so  far  forsook  him  that  he  actually  lent  a  serious 
ear  and  a  good  deal  of  money  toward  the  construction  of  a 
flying-machine.  This  was  first  offered  to  Harley,  who  re 
jected  it  on  the  spot,  but  as  it  promised  so  much — the  ocean 
could  be  traversed  in  a  few  hours  with  ease  and  without 
danger — it  so  far  found  favor  in  Wall-street  as  to  induce  the 
gentleman  just  mentioned  to  put  in  sufficient  money  to 
build  one.  Delicacy  forbids  my  going  into  particulars,  and 
telling  what  became  of  the  machine. 

I  repeat,  my  office  was  now  filled  with  individuals  who 
were  about  to  realize  fortunes.  The  tone  of  conversation 
was  always  cheerful  and  encouraging ;  in  fact,  we  had  it  all 
our  own  way.  But  unfortunately,  reader,  the  more  my 
office  became  frequented  by  these  sanguine  gentlemen  of 


OF      WALL-STREET.  L'79 

the  future,  the  greater  was  my  distaste  for  my  daily  occu 
pation.  Listening  continually  to  remarks  where  no  sums 
under  tens  of  thousands  were  spoken  of,  and  from  these 
numerals  as  a  minimum  up  to  fabulous  amounts,  it  is  not  to 
be  wondered  at  that  I  became  disgusted  with  the  petty  la 
bors  of  a  note-broker,  wherein  my  first  ambition  had  been 
to  make  five  dollars  a  day.  To  run  about  all  the  morning 
without  success,  or  if  successful,  to  secure  but  three  or  four 
dollars  as  the  fruit  of  my  industry,  became  very  irksome  in 
view  of  the  large  sums  I  was  certain  of  realizing  in  the 
course  of  a  few  months.  Harley  thought  it  very  ridiculous 
of  me  to  be  still  digging  away  at  what  he  called  my  break 
back  work.  .-.  ,^ 

Without  exactly  withdrawing  from  it,  I  found  myself  tak 
ing  less  and  less  interest  in  what  I  had  to  do.  This  was 
soon  perceived  by  my  constituents,  and  the  result  can  be 
readily  divined.  By  degrees  my  business  fell  off.  I  was  too 
much  occupied  to  think  about  it.  Indeed,  it  was  not  long 
before  I  was  engrossed  heart  and  soul  in  the  various  schemes 

O 

which  Ilarlcy  had  under  preparation.  Possibly  the  reader 
will  wonder  at  this  avowal.  I  wonder  when  I  now  look  back 
on  what  I  was  doing.  I  had  experience.  I  was  fully  en 
lightened  on  the  subject.  I  may  say  I  knew  just  what  I  was 
about.  But  for  all  that,  a  certain  hallucination  had  possession 
of  me.  I  can  compare  its  effects  only  to  what  is  produced 
by  the  extraordinary  stimulus  of  wine  or  tobacco.  The 
conversation  of  men  about  every-day  affairs  became  insipid. 
I  lived  in  a  world  shared  only  by  my  companions  in  exalta 
tion,  and  if  occasionally  I  permitted  any  foreboding  of  the 
issue,  or  any  distrust  of  the  results  to  cross  my  mind,  I  had 


280  UNDERCURRENTS 

only  to  cheer  myself  by  conversing  with  some  of  my  friends, 
who  were  fully  competent  to  reassure  me.  Harley  had  not 
yet  called  on  me  for  the  seven  hundred  and  odd  dollars 
which  he  had  desired  me  to  retain.  He  finally  said  he  should 
not  require  it  till  he  left  for  Europe.  I  was  exceedingly 
prudent,  taking  care  to  invest  on  "  call,"  on  perfect  security. 
But  the  control  of  the  money  made  me  feel  richer  than  I 
really  was,  and  helped  to  heighten  the  day-dream  which  en 
tranced  me. 

One  thing  proved  a  source  of  constant  embarrassment.  I 
have  observed  that  I  was  in  the  habit  of  informing  my 
daughter  of  my  daily  plans  and  various  business  details,  • 
interesting  to  her  in  consequence  of  her  intense  sympathy 
with  every  thing  which  concerned  me.  Now,  I  could  not 
explain  to  her  just  what  I  was  doing,  and  hoped  to  achieve. 
Why  couldn't  I  ?  That  was  the  question.  Did  I  not  fear 
that  to  her  clear  and  unsophisticated  sense,  child  as  she  was, 
my  hopes  and  expectations  would  seem  visionary  and  delu 
sive,  especially  as  I  was  losing  the  substance — a  sure  support 
from  day  to  day — while  I  grasped  at  what  might  turn  out 
but  shadow  ?  That  was  it.  And  while  in  a  general  way  I 
gave  Alice  to  understand  that  I  had  undertaken  several  busi 
ness  matters  which  promised  largely,  I  no  longer  talked 
over  affairs  with  her  as  heretofore.  I  grew  silent  and  dis 
trait  1  spent  less  time  at  the  house  with  the  children,  and 
even  when  at  home,  began  to  feel  a  nervous  restlessness  to 
get  back  to  the  scene  of  so  much  promise,  where  I  could 
talk  over  our  plans  with  Harley,  and  find  in  his  ever-cheer 
ful  companionship  a  solace  against  any  fear  or  foreboding. 

I  said  my  business  diminished.      It  is  remarkable  how 


OF      W  A  L  L  -  S  T  K  E  E  T  .  281 

soon  the  world  discovers  when  a  man  is  not  in  earnest  in 
what  he  is  about,  and  deals  with  him  accordingly.  Of  all 
occupations,  the  one  I  had  selected  required  perhaps  the 
most  assiduous  attention.  The  reader  will  not  be  surprised 
to  learn  that  before  Harley  got  ready  to  sail  for  Liverpool  I 
had  quite  abandoned  the  occupation  of  note-broker,  or 
rather,  it  had  abandoned  me.  And  why  ?  I  have  already 
explained.  Not  that  my  time  was  really  entirely  taken  up 
in  the  new  schemes,  but  because  attention  to  them  absolutely 
unfitted  me  for  any  steady  occupation,  so  that  I  could  not 
endure  the  tranquil  uniformity  of  ordinary  life.  But  how 
was  I  to  live,  meantime  ?  Even  so  serious  a  question  did  not 
embarrass  me,  did  not  present  itself  in  force  or  seriously. 
Oh  !  in  all  these  various  projects,  a  few  thousands  must  come 
under  any  circumstances.  I  have  already  five  hundred  dol 
lars  ahead,  besides  the  five  hundred  dollars  of  Alice's.  I  can 
at  any  time  draw  for  what  is  necessary  on  Harley,  so  lie 
says ;  and  we  shall  yet  have  between  two  and  three  thou 
sand  dollars  out  of  the  proceeds  of  the  sale  of  the  old  house. 
At  the  same  time,  I  insensibly  adopted  a  more  generous 
style  of  living,  so  that  I  was  soon  spending  at  the  rate  of 
two  thousand  dollars  a  year  instead  of  fifteen  hundred.  My 
friends  perceived  the  agreeable  change  in  my  appearance, 
and  congratulated  me  on  my  doing  so  well.  Even  Mr.  Nor 
wood  was  deceived,  lie  was  not  familiar  with  what  I  was 
about  from  day  to  day,  and  did  not  know,  and  I  did  not  tell 
him  I  had  abandoned  my  original  occupation.  But  his  con 
gratulations  embarrassed  me.  It  seemed  as  if  I  were  de 
ceiving  him  by  receiving  them.  However,  things  went  on 
pleasantly  during  the  heyday  of  that  speculative  dream.  I 


282  U  N  D  E  K  C  U  K  11  E  X  T  S 

saw  I  was  considered  to  be  in  a  prosperous  way,  and  I  really 
fancied  myself  so.  If  called  on  for  the  reason  why,  I  should 
have  waived  the  subject,  for  I  could  not  give  any. 

I  took,  however,  some  precautions,  although  Harley  had 
repeatedly  intimated  I  could  rely  on  him  for  any  tiling.  I 
seized  an  opportunity  to  explain  to  him  that  my  embarking 
in  these  various  affairs  quite  prevented  attention  to  any 
regular  business.  His  reply  was  every  way  satisfactory. 
He  fully  comprehended  it,  he  said,  and  supposed  from  what 
he  had  already  told  me,  that  I  distinctly  understood  he  was 
aware  my  business  would  be  sacrificed,  and  he  intended  to 
relieve  my  mind  on  that  head  by  authorizing  me  to  draw  on 
him,  pending  negotiations,  for  what  was  necessary  for  the 
support  of  myself  and  family.  If  the  reader  could  have 
witnessed  the  kind  manner  and  appreciative  tone  of  Harley 
while  making  this  communication,  he  would  not  wonder  at 
the  effect  it  produced  on  me.  Nothing  could  have  been 
more  generous,  and  such  confidence  did  this  man  inspire  by 
his  extraordinary  address,  that  the  failure  of  any  one  of  his 
plans  seemed  impossible — that  is  the  word,  impossible.  I 
now  felt  at  ease  with  respect  to  the  future.  My  days  at 
home  were  happy  again.  I  was  no  longer  absent-minded 
or  distrait.  Oh !  how  I  did  enjoy  that  period  of  repose 
from  anxiety  and  apprehension. 


OF      WALL-STREET.  283 


CHAPTER    XXII. 

HARLEY     ABROAD. 

IT  was  not  till  February  of  the  new  year  (1849)  that 
Harley  was  quite  ready  to  sail  for  Europe.  His  determina 
tion  to  have  all  his  documents  in  unexceptionable  shape 
before  presenting  them  to  the  capitalists  over  the  water, 
led  to  the  delay.  But  at  length  every  paper  was  in  order. 
Exemplifications  of  public  documents,  certified  copies  from 
public  records,  elaborately-drawn  powers  of  attorney  duly 
executed  and  acknowledged,  and  properly  authenticated 
both  by  the  English  and  French  consuls  ("  for,"  said  Har 
ley,  "  I  may  decide  to  operate  in  Paris  as  well  as  London"), 
filled  a  large,  substantial,  iron-bound  box,  to  us  the  true 
philosopher's  stone,  the  real  elixir  for  transmuting  into  gold. 

Prior  to  Harley' s  departure,  I  refunded  him  the  money 
which  he  had  left  in  my  charge  and  which  I  knew  he  relied 
on  for  immediate  expenses.  He  would  take  no  interest, 
although  I  had  received  not  only  interest,  but  several  com 
missions,  from  its  employment.  He  even  apologized  for 
touching  the  money  at  all.  "  You  know,"  he  observed, 
"  it  will  never  do  for  me  to  go  out  to  London  in  any  other 
character  than  that  of  a  man  of  wealth.  A  poor  devil  is 
John  Bull's  special  abhorrence.  Notwithstanding  his  severe 
hits  in  America,  he  still  believes  it  is  the  place  to  realize  for 
tunes.  And  on  account  of  his  own  prudent  habits,  he  can't 


284  UNDERCURRENTS 

understand  why  if  we  live  like  nabobs,  we  should  not  be 
as  rich  as  nabobs.  So  I  shall  take  my  wife  with  me  to 
London ;  hire  a  handsome  furnished  house  ;  open  spacious 
offices  in  the  city :  set  up  my  brougham  with  a  spruce  tiger 
in  livery,  and  drive  into  town  at  precisely  the  same  moment 
of  time  every  morning,  and  leave  just  as  precisely  every 
afternoon.  This  will  show  several  things  ;  that  I  am  a  very 
independent  fellow ;  that  I  am  very  punctual  as  well  as 
punctilious,  and  therefore  a  thorough  man  of  business. 
You  shall  see,"  he  added  after  a  pause,  in  which  it  seemed 
as  if  he  were  contemplating  himself  descending  from  his 
carriage  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  bank,  and  marching 
with  an  easy,  much-at-home  air  into  his  office,  "  you  shall 
see,  my  friend,"  he  repeated,  nodding  complacently,  "  and 
that  very  soon." 

Harley  actually  left  the  country  to  carry  out  his  various 
plans,  including  the  play  of  rich  man  by  setting  up  an  estab 
lishment,  brougham  and  all,  with  less  than  a  thousand  dol 
lars  at  command,  and  with  no  resources  beyond  what  could 
be  derived  from  the  contents  of  the  aforementioned  large 
iron-bound  box. 

I  know  the  regular  business  man  will  sneer  at  the  ven 
tures  of  my  good  friend.  For  he  regards  such  people  as 
pests  in  the  community,  because  they  live  so  much  at  their 
ease,  and  act  so  charmingly  the  part  of  capitalists. without 
having  a  dollar  of  capital.  And  yet  this  same  regular  man 
of  business  looks  at  the  man  of  speculation  with  a  species 
of  envy 'akin  to  that  with  which  your  severely  virtuous 
woman  regards  the  free-and-easy  manners  of  some  stylish 
lady  who,  her  reputation  having  become  a  little  questiona- 


OF      W  AL  L-S  THE  E  T.  285 

ble,  independently  places  herself  just  outside  the  limits  of 
severe  propriety. 

Knowing  just  what  I  did  about  Harley,  would  you  not 
suppose  I  trembled  for  the  result  of  certain  drafts  I  was  to 
draw  on  him  to  defray  immediate  expenses  ?  Yet  the  sub 
ject  gave  me  no  uneasiness  whatever.  Indeed,  so  fully  did 
I  believe  in  his  ability  to  accomplish  his  objects,  that  I  for 
bore  to 'ask  him  for  about  two  hundred  dollars,  which  I  had 
already  expended  out  of  the  five  hundred  laid  aside,  because 
I  perceived  how  important  the  money  would  be  to  him  at 
the  start. 

Harley  was  particular  to  put  our  understanding  in  writ- 
ino-  before  he  left.  By  it  I  was  to  receive  one-fourth  part 
of  the  net  profits  to  be  derived  from  the  various  schemes 
lie  had  undertaken  or  should  undertake  in  connection  with 
his  present  trip  to  Europe.  Perhaps  it  may  occur  to  the 
reader  to  inquire  how  I  was  to  be  of  use  to  Harley,  at  least 
to  such  an  extent  that  he  should  be  ready  to  let  me  into  so 
considerable  a  share  of  the  results  of  his  enterprises.  I 
was  myself  at  first  a  little  at  loss  on  the  subject,  but  in  get 
ting  to  be  thoroughly  informed  of  all  his  plans,  I  saw  how 
important  it  was  for  him  to  have  a  reliable  coadjutor  on 
this  side.  Besides,  I  still  retained  some  valuable  correspon 
dents  there,  and  I  could  materially  aid  Harley  in  establish 
ing  himself. 

It  was  precisely  at  noon,  Wednesday,  that  the  Canard 
steamer  "  Hibernia"  left  her  dock,  with  Harley  and  his  wife 
among  the  passengers.  Mrs.  Harley  was  especially  delight 
ed  at  the  idea  of  "  going  to  Europe."  For  she  had  not  ac- 


286  u  N  D  E  u  c  u  11 11 1:  x  T  s 

companied  her  husband  on  his  previous  trip.  My  whole 
family  went  with  me  to  the  steamer  to  see  our  friends  oif ; 
we  had  become  very  well  acquainted  during  the  winter. 
The  children  were  much  delighted  at  every  thing  they  be 
held,  and  Alice  played  the  matron  astonishingly  well.  As  I 
bid  Harley  adieu,  it  seemed  as  if  I  had  been  well  acquainted 
with  him  all  my  life.  His  cordial,  whole-souled  "  GOD  bless 
you !"  struck  into  my  heart.  We  watched  the  steamer  for 
some  time  as  she  worked  slowly  down  into  the  bay,  Harley 
waving  his  handkerchief  at  intervals,  all  of  us  returning  his 
signals.  At  last  he  wras  no  longer  to  be  seen,  and  with  a 
parting  glance  at  the  ship,  we  took  our  way  homeward. 

I  expected  to  feel  lonely  after  his  departure.  Indeed,  the 
next  morning  I  found  myself  quite  below  par  in  spirits. 
On  reaching  my  office,  however,  some  of  our  friends  who, 
were  interested  in  one  or  the  other  of  the  enterprises  Har 
ley  had  in  charge,  came  in,  and  the  day  was  spent  discuss 
ing  various  points  relating  to  them.  In  the  course  of  the 
week  one  or  two  gentlemen,  hearing  I  was  concerned  in 
such  negotiations,  came  to  introduce  new  projects  to  me,  so 
that  my  time  was  quite  occupied  with  examining  these  and 
others  which  now  fell  in  my  way. 

I  have  stated  that  I  gradually  increased  my  daily  expen 
ditures.  Strange,  you  will  say,  since  I  had  thus  far  made 
nothing  at  all  out  of  any  of  these  schemes,  but  on  the  con 
trary,  had  already  spent  twro  hundred  dollars  of  what  I 
called  my  principal.  But  the  future  was  to  be  my  paymas 
ter,  and  I  trusted  to  it  implicitly.  I  adopted,  therefore, 
Harley's  advice  to  occasionally  invite  to  dinner  some  of  the 
persons  who  were  interested  in  the  most  valuable  enter- 


OF      WALL- STREET.  287 

prises.  This  threw  a  cheerful  air  over  our  house,  and  made 
Alice  especially  happy  because  she  believed  it  a  sign  of  re 
newed  prosperity.  In  return,  many  were  the  charming  din 
ners  I  was  invited  to  at  several  fashionable  hotels  of  the  city. 
I  well  remember  one  given  at  the  Gloria  Hotel  by  the 
Georgia  gentleman,  who  was  proposing  to  develop  the  ca 
pabilities  of  the  port  of  Brunswick.  It  was  a  very  delight 
ful  set-down — ten  covers.  The  bill  of  fare  was  printed  on 
satin,  commencing  with  "  Saddle-Rock  oysters  on  the  half- 
shell,"  and  followed  by  all  the  delicacies  New  York  could 
afford.  The  wines  and  liquors  were  superb.  At  that  din 
ner  was  the  agent  of  a  British  capitalist,  who  had  come  at 
Harley's  suggestion  to  examine  and  report  generally  about 
the  property,  and  also  the  facilities  for  cutting  and  trans 
porting  the  pine  timber  on  it ;  also  the  depth  of  water  at 
the  port  of  Brunswick.  This  person  was  an  engineer  by 
profession,  not  in  the  permanent  employ  of  the  capitalist, 
but  selected  for  the  occasion.  Of  course  it  was  for  the  in 
terest  of  the  Georgia  gentleman  to  produce  from  first  to 
last  a  good  impression.  He  therefore  opened  the  campaign 
with  the  dinner  at  the  Gloria  Hotel.  This  was  followed  by 
other  agreeable  attentions,  until  both  took  their  departure 
for  the  famous  harbor.  For  our  friend  was  too  sagacious 
to  allow  the  agent  to  proceed  by  himself,  not  that  there  were 
any  untruthful  representations  made  respecting  the  enter 
prise ;  but  the  fear  was,  that  other  parties,  jealous  of  his 
good  fortune,  might  get  the  ear  of  the  Englishman  and  un 
derbid  their  neighbor  in  the  price  of  pine  timber  lands,  of 
which  this  particular  person  certainly  had  not  the  monopoly 
in  that  district. 


288  UNDERCURRENTS 

In  just  one  month  I  received  a  letter  from  Harley.  He 
had  arrived  safely  with  his  wife.  Had  already  had  a  most 
encouraging  interview  with  his  solicitors.  Every  thing 
looked  prosperous.  Would  write  fully  next  steamer. 

From  that  time  forward  Harley  proved  a  most  regular 
correspondent.  He  was  a  voluminous  letter-writer.  The 
least  measure  of  success,  and  every  shadow  of  adverse  pros 
pects,  were  vividly  daguerreotyped.  But  there  was  very 
little  shadow  to  a  man  of  Harley's  temperament,  so  his 
epistles  were  generally  inspiriting.  He  was  remarkably 
clear  and  methodical ;  to  each  particular  scheme  was  de 
voted  a  certain  space,  and  headed  accordingly.  Under  each 
head  were  his  remarks,  requests,  or  instructions.  Some 
times  fresh  documents  were  required  for  this ;  more  infor 
mation  to  be  forwarded  about  that ;  a  new  set  of  papers  for 
a  third,  and  so  on. 

It  was  not  long  before  something  definite  appeared  to  be 
gradually  working  out  of  the  innumerable  matters  in  hand. 
To  be  sure  John  Bull  was  not  to  be  hurried.  Yet  Harley 
understood  his  character  so  well,  that  he  lost  no  time.  At 
length  a  company  was  formed  under  the  auspices  of  his 
enterprising  solicitors,  for  working  the  Tennessee  Copper 
Mine,  "  provisionally,"  it  was  true,  based  on  the  report  of  a 
scientific  man,  to  be  sent  immediately  forward.  So  far  so 
good.  Again,  a  wealthy  broker  of  Austen  Friars  had  con 
sented  to  send  an  agent  to  Lake  Superior,  to  investigate  the 
value  of  the  property  which  Harley  had  offered  for  exploi 
tation.  The  California  mines  promised  still  better  ;  for  all 
London,  Harley  wrote,  was  crazy  after  them. 

Those  were  bright  days,  indeed,   when  each  successive 


OF      W  ALL-STKEET.  289 

steamer  brought  some  favorable  tidings.  Harley  had  been 
successful  in  procuring  a  delightful  house,  in  which  he  was 
installed,  and  his  plans  were  all  working  to  a  charm.  At 
the  end  of  two  months  I  drew  on  him  for  one  hundred 
pounds,  to  cover,  according  to  agreement,  my  personal  ex 
penses,  and  also  certain  disbursements  made  in  the  course  of 
business.  The  bill  was  duly  honored,  and  it  is  impossible  to 
describe  my  transports  on  experiencing  this  first  evidence 
of  success.  There  was  something  tangible.  To  be  sure 
only  amounting  to  what  I  had  disbursed,  but  it  included  a 
livelihood. 

Harley,  meanwhile,  was  careful  to  explain  that  it  must 
necessarily  be  some  time  before  profits  could  be  realized. 
He  managed,  he  said,  in  his  various  operations,  to  arrange 
for  a  small  sum  to  be  raised  on  the  provisional  shares,  or  on 
the  various  conventions  he  entered  into.  These  provided 
for  the  cost  of  examining  property,  and  other  incidental 
matters,  which  Harley  took  good  care  should  cover  his  ex 
penses  and  my  own.  In  this  way  the  brougham  and  tiger 
were  sustained,  and  a  very  nice  time  generally  inaugurated 
for  Mrs.  Harley,  while  my  own  drafts,  which  gradually  in 
creased  in  amount,  were  promptly  met. 

It  was  not  long  before  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Harley  were  pre 
sented  at  court,  and  soon  found  their  way  into  society  which, 
had  they  been  born  in  England,  they  could  never  have  en 
tered.  But,  as  wealthy  Americans,  residing  abroad,  whose 
position  was  assured  by  their  ambassador,  and  who  stood 
well  financially  with  their  bankers,  the  entree  to  fashionable 
circles  was  easy  and  felicitous.  There,  for  the  present,  we 
may  leave  them. 
13 


290  UN  D  EBCU  B  RE  N  T  S 


CHAPTER    XXIII. 

THE     CHOLERA. 

Lsr  the  summer  of  1849  the  cholera  visited  New  York. 
It  did  not  interfere  much  with  rich  people.  There  were  cer 
tain  startling  exceptions,  sudden  and  sharp,  which  made  the 
luxurious  sensitive  as  to  their  hold  on  life,  and  induced  a 
general  hegira  from  the  town  to  the  mountains  or  sea-shore. 
It  was  the  poor,  however,  who  were  forced  to  take  the  prin 
cipal  burden  of  the  epidemic,  as  they  have  to  carry  other 
burdens  grievous  to  be  borne,  but  which  Providence  has  de 
creed  they  must  endure  so  long  as  they  live. 

By  the  middle  of  July,  the  deaths  by  cholera  alone  reach 
ed  one  hundred  daily.  This  account  soon  ran  up  to  two 
hundred.  I  felt  no  great  apprehension  for  myself,  but  chil 
dren  have  an  instinctive  terror  of  pestilence,  and  I  began  to 
fear  for  them.  So,  early  in  July,  I  took  pleasant  lodgings  at 
a  small  town  in  the  interior  of  Connecticut,  and  remained 
there  until  the  middle  of  September.  I  was  happy  to  be 
able  to  aid  Mrs.  Hitchcock  and  her  daughter  to  accompany 
us.  In  this  quiet  but  delightful  retreat  I  spent  two  months 
very  pleasantly.  I  devoted  myself  to  the  young  people,  and 
glimpses  of  happier  days  shone  in  on  me.  Matilda  appeared 
more  natural  than  I  ever  saw  her  ;  only  she  had  a  nervous 
fear  of  the  contagion,  which  was  at  times  melancholy  to 
witness.  I  received  my  letters  from  Harley  regularly,  and 


OF      W  A  L  L-  S  T  11  E  E  T.  291 

although  my  absence  from  New  York  necessarily  delayed 
some  matters,  I  became  each  day  more  and  more  sanguine 
of  satisfactory  results. 

When  we  all  came  back  in  September,  the  city  had  re 
sumed  its  wonted  aspect.  Congratulations  passed  among 
friends  and  acquaintances,  as  they  met  and  found  on  inquiry 
each  others'  families  with  unbroken  numbers.  Sometimes 
condolences  were  tendered  instead.  But  the  pestilence  had 
now  left  us,  that  was  certain,  and  the  inhabitants  returned 
to  their  business  or  their  pleasures  with  undiminished  zest ; 
indeed,  rather  with  a  heightened  ardor,  caused  by  a  natural 
reaction. 

As  I  gathered  my  little  family  safe  around  me  the  first 
evening  of  our  arrival,  I  felt  grateful  to  GOD  for  permitting 
us  all  to  live.  I  called  to  mind  how  two  years  before  we 
had  come  in  from  Newport,  so  suddenly  to  encounter  that 
calamitous  reverse.  I  could  not  prevent  some  severe  pangs 
as  I  thought  over  the  occurrences  of  that  year  ;  recalled  the 
scenes  in  my  house  in  Broadway,  scenes  in  which  my  wife 
was  always  in  the  foreground.  I  thought  of  the  stormy 
night,  when  I  came  home  drenched  with  rain,  to  find  her 
waiting  for  me,  a  ready,  active,  sympathizing  spirit.  How 
vividly  I  saw  her,  with  her  hand  resting  on  my  shoulder, 
looking  anxiously  into  my  face,  asking  what  troubled  me. 
Then  the  scene  changed  to  the  last,  sad  parting ;  the  mel 
ancholy  termination  of  our  united  life.  Oh  !  the  rich,  un 
bounded  resources  of  her  woman's  heart !  Where  was  sht 
now  ?  And  I !  What  had  I  still  to  do  here  ? 

I  looked  up,  and  my  glance  fell  on  Alice.    I  was  impressed 


292  UNDEBCUEBE  X  T  S 

for  the  first  time  with  the  fact  that  she  was  now  a  young  lady. 
For  the  first  time  I  comprehended  the  entire  sacrifice  she 
was  making  of  herself  to  promote  her  father's  happiness. 
She  was  at  an  age  when  young  girls  are  fondest  of  society ; 
when  its  pleasures  are  fresh,  and  its  enjoyments  genial  and 
innocent.  But  Alice  lived  without  any  of  these.  Her  time 
was  devoted  to  the  younger  children  and  to  me.  It  is  true 
she  had  received  invitations  from  some  of  our  old  friends, 
but  she  refused  them  all.  For  a  time  Miss  Stevenson  visited 
her,  and  endeavored  to  bring  her  out  of  the  seclusion  she 
had  chosen ;  she  called  several  times  to  ask  her  to  ride.  It 
was  of  no  avail,  and  the  visits  were  at  length  discontinued. 
Alice,  evidently,  had  come  to  a  decision  as  to  her  course, 
and  was  firm  in  abiding  by  it. 

I  say  that  I  regarded  her  at  that  moment  in  a  new  light. 
It  struck  me  that  I  was  very  unjust  to  permit  her  to  go  on 
in  this  manner. 

"Alice,"  I  said. 

She  looked  up. 

"  Come  here,  my  child." 

She  came,  and  seated  herself  by  my  side. 

"  Do  you  know  what  I  am  thinking  of,  Alice ;  do  you 
remember  two  years  ago  ?" 

"  How  can  I  forget  it,  papa ;  the  time  when  you  were  so 
unhappy  ?" 

"I  know,  Alice;  but  I  was  not  thinking  of  that.  I  was 
thinking  of  the  time  when  you  had  so  much  to  make  you 
gay.  You  were  just  beginning  to  enjoy  society — still  a 
school-girl,  but  old  enough  to  appreciate  what  you  saw  at 
home.  Now,  when  you  ought  to  mix  with  young  people  of 


OP      W  A  L  L  -  S  T  II  E  E  T .  293 

your  own  age.  you  are  shut  up  here,  and  are  nothing  but  a 
drudge." 

"How  can  you  say  so,  papa;  do  I  seem  so  stupid  and 
drudge-like  to  you  ?" 

"  No,  indeed ;  but,  my  child,  you  are  no  longer  a  little 
girl.  You  have  become,  almost  without  my  perceiving  it,  a 
young  lady,  and  it  is  very  wrong  for  me  to  permit  you  to  be 
confined  in  the  way  you  are." 

"My  dear  father,"  said  Alice,  seriously,  "I  know  what 
you  mean ;  and  knowing  it,  let  me  entreat  you  not  to  bestow 
one  moment  of  uneasiness  about  me.  For  I  assure  you  I 
think  I  never  was  so  happy  in  my  life — no"  (she  paused  as 
if  to  consider),  "  not  even  when  dear  mamma  was  alive.  It 
seems  as  if  I  had  so  much  to  live  for ;  to  make  things  pleas 
ant  for  you,  and  to  look  after  Charley  and  Anna.  Oh !  so 
much  depends  on  me,  papa — at  least  I  make  myself  believe 
so — that  I  am  very,  very  happy." 

"Besides,  papa,"  she  continued,  "do  not  think  I  neglect 
myself.  I  read  a  great  deal,  you  know,  for  you  select  the 
books.  I  practise  my  music,  and  you  often  tell  me  how 
much  I  improve.  We  have,  too,  some  very  agreeable  neigh 
bors  ;  not  wealthy  people,  I  admit,  but  who  are  really  refined 
and  intelligent,  whom  I  frequently  see,  and  have  pleasant 
chats  with.  And  now  can  you  not  understand  why  I  should 
be  content  ?" 

"  GOD  bless  you,  my  child  ;  GOD  bless  you."  It  was  all  I 
could  say.  I  kissed  her  tenderly,  and  rose,  and  walked  out 
till  I  could  subdue  my  emotion.  Then  I  came  back  to  the 
parlor,  tea  was  brought  in,  after  that  we  were  musical — and 
so  the  evening  wore  away. 


294  UNDERCURRENTS 

The  cholera  had  not  passed  me  by  altogether.  The  next 
day,  as  I  was  going  to  my  office,  I  learned  what  was  to  me 
very  distressing  intelligence.  Mr.  Norwood  had  fallen  a 
victim  to  the  terrible  scourge.  He  owned  a  pleasant  sum 
mer  residence  near  New  Rochelle,  and,  although  there  was 
a  good  deal  of  sickness  in  the  vicinity,  he  did  not  think  it 
necessary  to  go  elsewhere.  He  was  taken  suddenly  one 
evening  on  returning  from  town,  and  in  twenty-four  hours 
was  a  corpse.  I  suppose  I  was  selfish  in  my  grief  at  the  loss 
of  my  only  steadfast  and  disinterested  friend.  The  sudden 
ness  of  the  attack,  and  the  swiftness  of  the  result,  appalled 
me.  How  full  of  life  was  this  man !  Literally  he  had  been 
taken  away  in  the  midst  of  his  days.  I  did  not  know  how 
much  I  really  depended  on  him  till  he  was  lost  to  me.  So  it 
is  with  us.  We  cannot  appreciate  the  various  props  and 
supports  which  surround  and  sustain  us  till  one  after  an 
other  is  struck  away,  and  we  are  left  defenceless.  Mr.  Nor 
wood  dead !  was  I  never  more  to  be  cheered  by  his  encour 
aging  smile,  nor  buoyed  up  by  his  kind  assurances  ?  No, 
never  again. 

I  sat  an  hour  in  my  office  thinking  over  events  connect 
ed  with  my  intimacy  with  this  high-minded,  honest  advo 
cate. 

Unable  longer  to  bear  the  sad  thoughts  which  overcame 
me,  I  descended  to  the  street.  The  first  person  I  met  was 
Downer.  We  shook  hands.  I  never  felt  so  cordially  dis 
posed  toward  him  as  at  that  moment.  His  countenance 
indicated  a  good  deal  of  recent  suffering. 

"Have  you  been  in  the  city  all  summer?"  I  asked. 


O  F      W  A  L  L  -  S  T  E  E  E  T  .  295 

"  To  be  sure  I  have.  How  could  a  poor  devil  like  me  get 
out  of  it  ?  I  sent  my  wife  and  children  into  Delaware  coun 
ty,  among  the  woods,  where  they  could  live  cheaper  than 
here,  but  I  had  to  stay  and  make  something  to  support 
them.  Thank  GOD  I  have  lived  through  it.  Never  had  a 
dispute  with  my  wife  before.  This  time  I  was  determined 
to  have  my  own  way.  She  insisted  on  not  leaving  me ;  I 
declared  she  should.  I  brought  the  children  into  the  argu 
ment,  and  that  helped  to  carry  the  day.  The  fact  is,  I  knew 
I  shouldn't  die.  But  I  came  pretty  near  it,  though.  Was 
taken  one  night  all  alone  in  my  house.  Well,  I  lived,  and 
here  we  are." 

Since  I  had  seen  Downer's  family,  I  entertained  very  dif 
ferent  sentiments  toward  him.  I  could  fully  understand,  I 
thought,  his  struggles,  and  the  feelings  which  actuated  him. 
Little  did  he  care  for  the  smooth  conventionalities  of  society 
when  those  he  loved  were  ready  to  perish. 

"  So,"  he  remarked,  after  a  pause,  "you  are  out  of  it  ?" 

"  Out  of  what,  pray  ?" 

"  Why,  out  of  this  hell-begotten  business.  I  knew  you 
wouldn't  stand  it  long.  I  knew  you  couldn't." 

"  Oh !  I  perceive  your  meaning  now,"  I  replied.  "  It  is 
true  I  have  taken  up  other  matters,  which  I  thought  prom 
ised  better.  But  not  because  I  was  disgusted  with  what  I 
was  doing,  I  assure  you.  On  the  contrary,  I  sometimes 
have  doubts  as  to  the  expediency  of  leaving  a  business  I 
think  I  could  have  made  a  comfortable  living  in." 

"  Well,  you  were  doing  pretty  fair,  that's  a  fact.  But  you 
started  at  a  good  time,  and  hadn't  been  through  one  of  our 
hard  scrabbles.  Then,  I  tell  you,  there  must  some  go  to  the 


296  UNDER  CURRENTS 

wall.  It  is  the  hardest  fend  off.  So,  thank  HEAVEN  that  you 
are  well  out  of  it." 

"  If  I  am  well  out  of  it,  I  will.     Good  morning." 

I  turned  to  depart.  Downer  called  me  back.  He  hesitat 
ed  a  moment,  and  then  bluntly  said :  "  Can  you  lend  me  five 
dollars  ?" 

"  With  much  pleasure,"  I  exclaimed,  and  I  handed  him 
the  desired  sum. 

"Doubtful  if  you  ever  see  it  again,"  he  said,  with  an 
attempt  to  be  jocose,  and  walked  rapidly  away. 

I  found  I  had  a  good  deal  on  my  hands  in  bringing  up 
various  matters  which  had  to  be  neglected  during  my  sojourn 
in  the  country.  My  former  confreres  soon  gathered  around 
me,  and  I  was  presently  engaged,  busily  as  ever,  with  Har- 
ley's  instructions,  with  receiving  and  getting  off  the  agents 
who  were  coming  out,  in  laying  hold  of  some  new  projects, 
and  attending  generally  to  the  details  of  our  various  enter 
prises.  My  mind  was  buoyed  up  with  a  feeling  which  sure 
prospect  of  success  invariably  produces. 

The  reader,  who  has  thus  far  followed  me,  as  I  have  en 
deavored  truthfully  to  recount  some  occurrences  of  my  life, 
must  not  make  up  his  mind  too  hastily,  that  I  was  altogether 
without  decision  of  character,  or  fixedness  of  purpose.  It  is 
a  dreadful  thing  to  become  unsettled  after  one  has  passed 
fifty,  .and  a  most  difficult  thing  to  recover  again.  Indeed,  it 
seems  to  be  just  a  hazard,  and  nothing  more. 

You  meet  a  man,  for  example,  you  have  not  encountered 
for  many  years.  You  had  lost  sight  of  him  altogether.  He 
was  formerly  an  active,  enterprising  citizen,  occupying  a 


O  F      W  A  L  L-S  T  R  E  E  T.  297 

prominent  position ;  now  he  is  a  complete  wreck :  that  is 
very  evident.  But  what  stress  of  weather  has  brought  him 
to  this  condition  ?  His  ship  has  gone  down,  perhaps,  in 
very  sight  of  port.  From  position  and  influence  of  a  certain 
kind,  having  missed  his  footing,  perhaps  by  no  fault  of  his 
own,  he  has  fallen  clear  into  the  other  extreme.  Reader,  do 
not  forget  this  class.  Try,  if  it  be  possible,  to  do  something 
to  relieve  those  who  belong  to  it.  Remember,  if  you  find  in 
them  any  thing  to  censure  and  carp  at,  that  great  have  been 
their  trials  and  misfortunes,  and  your  charity  must  be  pro- 
portionably  great. 

You  meet  another  man  whom  you  had  also  lost  sight  of. 
When  you  last  saw  him  his  coat  was  threadbare ;  he  was 
struggling  with  difficulties ;  pressed  down,  harassed ;  bor 
rowing  money  to-day,  so  as  to  return  what  he  owed  for  yes 
terday's  debt ;  jumping  from  bog  to  bog,  very  soon  it  seemed 
he  would  be  engulfed.  Now,  how  quiet  and  complacent  he 
is  ;  how  unembarrassed  and  quite  at  ease !  He  has  grown 
stouter  and  taller  and  broader.  His  face  is  fuller,  and  his 
complexion  finer.  You  no  longer  see  any  restlessness  of  the 
eye,  any  perturbation  in  the  countenance.  He  wears  gloves, 
and  he  takes  one  off  with  unction  as  he  shakes  your  hand. 
The  first  individual  avoided  you,  this  one  evidently  courts  a 
recognition.  It  is  plain  he  has  weathered  the  storm,  and 
got  safe  into  harbor.  But  it  might  have  been  the  other  marl 
who  weathered  it,  and  this  who  went  down.  Rejoice,  there 
fore,  with  the  one  who  is  snug  and  safe  in  a  fair  haven,  and 
lend  a  helping  hand,  if  you  can,  to  the  one  struggling  among 
the  breakers. 


13* 


298  UNDERCUE  E  E 

It  is  comparatively  easy  to  write  the  history  of  our  lives, 
but  oh !  who  shall  write  the  history  of  the  lives  we  do  not 
lead  ?  I  mean  the  lives  which  our  youthful  aspirations,  our 
tastes,  and  our  hopes  mark  out  for  us.  The  lives,  perhaps, 
which  we  are  just  ready  to  enter  on,  when  a  cruel  destiny 
overtakes  us.  Ah  !  who  shall  dare  to  write  that  history ! 


END   OF  PART  SECOND. 


UNDERCURRENTS  OF  WALL-STREET. 


THE 


•'To  plunge  and  perish,  or  with  patient  mind 
To  suffer  and  to  live.    The  sufferer's  part 
At  length  I  chose,  and  resolute  survived." 


CHAPTER    I. 

THE      RETROSPECT. 

Tins  narrative  is  resumed  at  a  period  nearly  two  years 
and  a  half  subsequent  to  the  date  referred  to  in  the  pre 
ceding  chapter.  It  brings  us  to  the  spring  of  1852.  The 
lapse  of  time  we  will  bridge  over  by  a  brief  epitome  of 
what  occurred  during  those  thirty  months.  It  would  be 
easy  to  fill  a  volume  with  details,  but  it  would  contain 
many  repetitions,  and  would  not  serve  the  purpose  I  have 
in  view. 

Two  years  and  a  half,  after  we  are  fifty-two,  cannot  well 
be  spared.  At  that  age  every  year  counts.  It  is  not  pleas 
ant  to  be  reminded  in  the  midst  of  our  labors,  especially 
when  a  family  at  home  is  entirely  dependent  on  them ;  it 
is  not  agreeable,  I  say,  to  be  reminded  by  some  incipient 
debility  or  tell-tale  weakness  that  the  infirmities  of  age  are 
beginning  to  hover  around  us.  All  of  a  sudden  we  dis- 


•'*00  U  N  D  E  K  C  U  11  Ii  E  N  T  S 

cover  we  have  not  the  same  suppleness  of  joint,  the  same 
elasticity  of  limb,  the  same  general  activity  of  body  as  be 
fore.  We  put  it  down  to  a  cold,  a  touch  of  rheumatism,  or 
a  slight  visitation  of  neuralgia — to  any  thing  but  what  it 
really  is,  the  advance-guard  of  dissolution.  After  a  while 
we  give  it  up.  The  cold  is  not  cured,  the  rheumatism  and 
neuralgia  do  not  mend,  and  we  submit  to  the  inevitable 
destiny  which  says :  "  Grow  old  or  die !" 

It  is  then  we  grudge  the  years  which  bring  us  no  returns, 
which  leave  us  no  better  than  they  found  us.  For  men,  as 
they  advance  in  life,  feel  a  saddening  disappointment  when 
they  think  how  meagre  of  results  it  has  been  to  them.  So 
true  is  it,  that  there  is  implanted  in  the  breasts  of  us  all  a 
consciousness  that  we  ought  not  to  live  in  vain. 

Two  years  and  a  half,  reader,  and  we  meet  again. 

There  is  an  end  to  my  numerous  speculations  ;  and  with 
out  my  being  made  rich  or  comfortable,  or  having  one 
penny  laid  aside.  I  have  an  impression  that  most  of  my 
readers  imagine  that  Harley  had  undertaken  to  lay  some 
snare  for  me,  that  I  was  about  to  become  his  victim,  or 
dupe,  or  be  unfortunately  involved  by  his  practices,  or 
something  of  the  sort. 

I  have  no  such  experience  to  record.  Harley  proved  to 
be  just  what  he  appeared.  During  those  two  and  a  half 
years  he  worked  indefatigably.  lie  crossed  the  ocean  sev 
eral  times.  His  perseverance  was  marvellous ;  his  hope 
always  large  and  encouraging.  On  the  whole,  I  cannot  say 
I  have  any  reason  to  complain  of  him.  I  must  give,  there 
fore,  a  brief  explanation  why  I  find  myself  in  this  unpleas 
ant  situation. 


OF      W  A  L  L-  S  T  R  E  E  T.  301 

It  will  be  remembered  that  I  was  to  have  one-quarter  of 
the  net  profits  of  the  various  enterprises  connected  with 
America,  which  Harley  should  engage  in.  At  the  same 
time,  I  was  to  draw  on  him  for  my  necessary  expenses. 
The  result  of  each  separate  undertaking  may  be  briefly 
summed  up  as  follows : 

Of  the  three  California  gold-mines,  but  one  turned  out 
to  have  a  title  which  would  pass.  It  took  a  year  to  get  sat 
isfactory  evidence  of  that,  and  a  great  expense.  By  that 
time  far  better  placers  were  offered.  In  fact,  London  was 
flooded  with  auriferous  projects,  from  the  Mariposa  mines 
of  Fremont  to  the  mere  "  show"  of  the  California  squatter, 
represented  only  by  an  attractive  lump  of  gold.  So  Harley 
thought  best  to  sell  our  mine,  for  five  thousand  pounds 
(twenty-five  thousand  dollars),  cash.  It  had  simply  cost  the 
owner  the  trouble  of  prospecting  it,  and  of  going  through 
the  usual  squatter-law  form  of  taking  possession,  nothing 
more. 

From  this  twenty-five  thousand  dollars  had  to  be  deduct 
ed,  by  the  terms  of  sale,  the  various  charges  and  expenses 
of  the  solicitors,  for  examining  titles,  attending  meetings, 
etc.,  etc.,  etc.,  which  amounted  in  round  numbers  to  seven 
thousand  dollars.  IVIem. :  The  solicitors  who  received  these 
large  fees  had  influenced  their  clients  to  make  this  purchase, 
and  had  to  be  paid  accordingly. 

Of  the  seventeen  thousand  five  hundred  which  remained, 
the  owner  got  one-half,  and  I  a  fourth  of  the  balance.  I 
had  no  reason  to  complain  certainly. 

The  Virginia  gold-mine  promised  very  well.  Here  were 
pome  improvements,  and  a  quantity  of  ore  already  exca- 


302  UNDERCURRENTS 

vated.  A  geologist  of  respectability  was  sent  out  to  exam 
ine  it.  His  report  was  flavored  with  the  choice  viands  and 
fine  wines  of  the  Old  Dominion  ;  and  on  the  strength  of  it 
a  company  was  brought  out,  nominally  in  Paris,  under  the 
French  law  of  en  commandite.  The  shares  were  really 
owned  in  London  by  some  speculators,  who  to  avoid  all  re 
sponsibility  prevailed  on  a  Frenchman  in  their  employ  to 
act  as  gerant.  These  people  soon  began  to  speculate  in  the 
stock,  having  got  it  on  the  mining  list,  and  paid  not  the 
slightest  attention  to  working  the  mine  itself.  The  proprie 
tor  did  receive  in  cash  the  amount  of  his  improvements ; 
for  the  rest  he  obtained  a  certain  amount  of  the  shares,  and 
Harley  and  I  took  our  proportion,  but  we  had  to  engage 
not  to  offer  them  in  the  market  for  the  space  of  one  year. 
Harley  also  received  a  pretty  large  sum  under  the  disburse 
ment  account,  of  which  my  part  was  about  a  thousand 
dollars.  After  a  while,  the  stock  began  to  fall ;  those  in 
the  scheme  had  worked  off  their  shares  on  the  simple  ones 
who  were  outside,  and  the  Avhole  broke  down.  To  be  sure 
they  violated  their  contract  as  to  working  the  mine ;  the 
fact  is,  they  never  intended  to  work  it,  only  to  use  the 
company  for  stock  operations,  which  they  were  enabled 
the  better  to  do,  because  the  mine  was  in  working  order. 
Harley  threatened  law  proceedings  and  various  other  meas 
ures,  but  the  affair  subsided  as  such  affairs  generally  do. 
He  was  too  busy  to  prosecute ;  it  might  not  have  been  judi 
cious,  and  so  the  whole  matter  dropped.  Certain  share 
holders  to  this  day  curse  Harley  as  a  swindler,  when  it  was 
the  Englishmen  who  swindled  their  brother  Englishmen  in 
the  business. 


OF      W  A  L  L  -  S  T  R  E  E  T .  o03 

An  interesting  book  might  be  written  about  the  mine  on 
the  Isthmus.  Here  every  thing  was  right.  The  ore  was 
very  rich  and  abundant.  The  grants  perfect.  The  convey 
ances  en  regie.  In  due  course  a  company  was  formed  in 
London,  a  bona-fide  company,  to  exploit  this  really  valuable 
gold-mine.  It  was  on  this  enterprise  that  Harley  principally 
depended  for  the  realization  of  his  grand  ideas  of  fortune. 
And  there  seemed  nothing  in  the  way  to  prevent.  The 
directors  were  not  only  respectable,  but  embraced  some  of 
the  best  men  in  London.  The  plans  were  good  ;  the  sub 
scriptions  promptly  paid ;  Harley's  share  in  the  contract 
was  so  large  that  with  a  moderate  success,  wealth  was  in 
sured  to  us  both.  He  had  agreed  (he  could  not  well  do 
otherwise  if  he  wished  to  exhibit  confidence  in  the  scheme, 
and  he  certainly  had  confidence  in  it)  to  receive  a  certain 
portion  of  paid-up  stock  after  the  company  should  raise  the 
requisite  amount  of  working  capital. 

This  company  sent  out  a  splendid  lot  of  machinery,  a 
first-rate  engineer,  a  geologist,  practical  miners  to  work  the 
mines,  a  large  quantity  of  provisions,  including  pork,  beef, 
flour,  together  with  a  generous  quota  of  S2nrits.  Harley 
had  repeatedly  warned  the  manager  that  it  was  absolutely 
essential  for  the  success  of  the  expedition  that  no  liquor  be 
allowed  to  the  men.  He  had  carefully  investigated  this 
subject  as  connected  with  the  Isthmus,  but  the  advice  was 
disregarded.  The  people  arrived.  Before  the  machinery 
was  erected  the  fever  broke  out  among  them.  Nearly  all 
died,  or  suffered  the  entire  loss  of  health.  Only  those  who 
practised  total  abstinence  were  saved,  and  they  were  few. 
By  this  time  over  one  hundred  and  twenty  thousand  dollars 


304  *  U  X  D  E  E  C  U  K  R  E  X  T  S 

had  actually  been  expended,  or  rather  wasted.  A  fresh  call 
was  made,  for  Englishmen  will  not  readily  give  up  an  affair 
they  have  put  their  money  into.  Another  hundred  thousand 
was  raised.  Harley  had  to  contribute  on  his  stock,  although 
they  were  paid-up  shares,  or  lose  it,  for  the  company  had 
raised  all  the  working  capital  they  agreed  to.  Another  ex 
pedition  started.  Strange  to  say,  rum  in  large  quantities 
was  again  permitted  to  be  sent,  although  under  the  control 
of  the  manager  there.  The  men,  unused  to  the  climate, 
clamored  for  spirits.  The  manager  yielded.  In  fact,  he 
thought  it  would  do  them  good.  The  result  was  a  repeti 
tion  of  the  same  unhappy  scenes  as  before.  This  consumed 
more  than  two  years.  Still  the  company  would  not  give  up. 
But  Harley  could  no  longer  respond  to  the  tax  on  his  shares. 
He  had  already  managed  to  sell  some,  although  the  stock 
was  not  on  the  market,  but  now  nobody  would  buy.  Other 
matters  not  going  to  his  mind,  he  was  unable  to  pay  the 
considerable  sum  called  for,  and  so  his  stock  was  forfeited. 
I  will  remark  here,  that  after  two  more  discouraging  experi 
ments,  the  company  were  entirely  successful,  and  their  shares 
are  worth  at  this  day,  on  the  London  mining  board,  nearly 
one  hundred  per  cent,  premium !  Thus  we  just  escaped 
realizing  an  immense  fortune  ! 

I  have  already  mentioned  an  agent  had  been  sent  out  to 
report  as  to  the  value  of  the  two  Lake  Superior  copper- 
mines.  These  were  two  separate  properties.  Unfortunately, 
the  title  to  one  was  in  litigation.  Harley  was  promised  by 
his  principal  that  all  difficulties  relating  to  it  should  be 
settled  before  an  agent  could  arrive  out.  It  proved  to  be 
impossible,  and  that  was  an  end  of  the  matter.  The  other 


OF      WALE-STREET.  305 

property  was  very  valuable,  and  promised  largely.  The 
owner  was  a  'cute  down-easter,  who,  seeing  the  advantages 
to  be  reaped  from  the  enterprise,  came  back  with  the  agent 
to  London.  These  two  had  put  their  heads  together  on  the 
voyage  to  cheat  Harley  out  of  the  benefits  he  was  to  derive ; 
lie  had  a  written  contract  for  one-half  the  profits,  as  usual, 
and  this  now  seemed  to  the  owner  beyond  all  reason.  The 
result  was,  he  intrigued  with  the  London  broker,  told  stories 
to  Ilarley's  prejudice,  employed  a  solicitor  to  look  into  the 
contract,  who  decided  Harley  had  not  complied  with  every 
particular,  and  in  his  judgment  it  could  not  be  enforced.  In 
short,  Harley  saw  clearly  what  was  going  on,  and  determined 
to  have  no  litigation  or  scandal.  He  therefore  permitted 
the  owner  to  buy  out  his  interest  for  five  thousand  dollars, 
which  was  paid  to  him  in  cash,  and  the  parties  remained 
apparently  on  the  best  terms.  For  it  was  a  principle  with 
Harley  never  to  quarrel  with  any  body. 

The  company  for  the  working  of  the  Tennessee  copper- 
mine  went  forward  very  well.  But  it  was  subject  to  the 
fate  of  every  English  undertaking ;  that  is,  it  was  badly 
managed  at  first,  and  a  large  amount  of  money  wasted. 
After  two  or  three  misadventures  it  began  to  produce  some 
thing,  but  Harley  was  in  no  position  to  wait  for  dividends, 
which,  to  the  great  joy  of  these  Englishmen,  promised  to 
be  very  regular  in  four  or  five  years  !  So  he  sold  out  our 
interest  on  the  best  terms  possible. 

The  Virginia  land-company  charter  amounted  to  just 
nothing  at  all.  The  titles  were  involved  in  such  inextricable 
confusion,  "  lapping  over"  each  other  sometimes  five  or  six 
deep,  that  although,  as  the  solicitor  said,  the  lands  were 


306  U  X  D  E  R  C  U  R  R  E  X  T  S 

doubtless  there,  and  enough  of  them,  it  required  more  pro 
fessional  skill  than  he  was  capable  of,  to  disentangle  the 
snarl. 

The  Georgia  affair  might  have  turned  out  well  could 
we  have  kept  our  secret.  But  the  appearance  of  a  British 
agent,  whom  it  was  soon  rumored  was  a  special  messenger 
from  the  Bank  of  England,  (!)  and  whose  every  word  and 
gesture  were  watched  and  reported,  threw  the  whole  region 
into  a  state  of  excitement.  When  it  came  to  the  mysterious 
business  of  taking  soundings  in  and  around  the  harbor,  and 
making  minute  inquiries  on  various  subjects  connected  with 
the  resources  of  the  country,  the  excitement  was  complete. 
The  agent,  despite  the  endeavors  of  our  Georgia  friend  to 
keep  him  close,  was  surrounded  by  hosts  of  pine-land  people, 
who  were  ready  to  sell  at  any  price,  cash  down.  It  is  but 
fair  to  say,  the  agent  remained  true  to  his  convivial  pledges; 
he  had  come  out,  he  said  to  all  inquirers,  for  a  certain  pur 
pose,  and  he  had  nothing  whatever  to  do  outside  of  his 
instructions.  This  only  added  fuel  to  the  flame.  In  vain 
our  Southern  friend  endeavored  to  quiet  it.  He  became  the 
object  of  envy  to  the  surrounding  country,  so  that  in  less 
than  a  fortnight  after  the  return  of  the  agent  to  London, 
there  followed  him  three  individuals  from  that  region,  each 
with  plenipotentiary  power  to  sell  at  least  a  hundred  thou 
sand  acres  of  land  at  ONE  QUARTER  of  what  Harley  asked 
for  his !  The  next  steamer  brought  out  two  more  Georgians, 
on  whom  these  three,  who  acted  in  concert,  had  stolen  a 
march,  and  who  offered  other  large  tracts  at  still  lower 
prices.  The  result  was,  the  whole  scheme  was  knocked  in 
the  head  ;  although  Harley  had  the  pleasure,  if  pleasure  it 


OF      W  A  L  L  -  S  T  B  E  E  T .  rfO  < 

was,  to  see  the  five  "  representative  men,"  after  spending  six 
months  in  London,  and  quarrelling  with  each  other,  return 
home  with  loss  of  money,  time,  and  reputation,  only  to  be 
abused  by  their  constituents,  on  whom  they  had  drawn 
largely  for  expenses. 

But  the  live-oak  lands  of  Florida— there  was  an  opportu 
nity  !  The  price  of  the  land  was  understood  and  settled  on. 
The  titles  beyond  question.  The  quality  of  the  oak  timber 
undisputed.  All  the  expenses  calculated,  and  what  a  for 
tune  ! — on  paper.  Alas !  there  was  one  screw  loose.  The 
little  item  of  transportation  had  been  overlooked  ;  or  rather 
at  the  last  moment  it  was  ascertained  that  the  speculation 
turned  on  the  completion  of  about  one  hundred  miles  of 
railway,  on  which  trains  were  already  running  but  twenty- 
five  miles ! 

The  invention  for  making  paper  out  of  the  bark  of  certain 
trees,  although  patented  in  America,  Harley  found  to  be  an 
old  French  discovery,  which  had  already  been  unsuccessfully 
experimented  with. 

The  plans  for  smelting  ores  with  little  or  no  fuel,  and  for 
generating  steam  with  equal  economy,  turned  out  mere  chi 
meras  of  the  brain  of  some  half-crazed  mechanical  genius. 

The  French  brandy  scheme,  I  have  already  said,  was 
abandoned. 

The  invention  for  making  steel  out  of  coarse  pig-iron 
promised  a  great  deal.  The  inventor  was  a  poor  man,  who 
could  advance  no  money  for  testing  it.  So  he  gave  Harley 
three-fourths  of  the  profits,  on  condition  that  he  would  fur 
nish  all  expenses.  It  cost  quite  a  sum  to  patent  it  all  over 
Europe,  and  still  more  to  erect  a  small  shop  for  experiments. 


308  U  N  D  E  B  C  U  11  E  E  X  T  S 

It  can  scarcely  be  said  that  these  experiments  failed,  but 
while  the  theory  of  the  process  was  successfully  demon 
strated,  practically  it  would  not  pay,  except  on  a  large  scale  ; 
and  no  Englishman  could  be  found  ready  to  embark  so 
much  money  in  a  new  process,  when  the  old  served  very 
well.  Here  was  a  considerable  loss,  but  there  was  no  help 
for  it. 

The  other  "little  matters"  turned  out  little.  A  few 
pounds  were,  from  time  to  time,  realized,  but  there  were  no 
important  advantages. 

Thus,  in  brief,  I  give  the  reader  the  result  of  over  three 
years'  work,  counting  from  the  time  I  first  engaged  with 
Harley,  to  the  period  referred  to  in  the  commencement  of 
this  chapter.  During  that  period,  I  repeat,  that  Harley  was 
indefatigable.  He  worked  very  hard,  and  with  a  marvellous 
energy.  Nothing  could  exceed  the  tact,  and  activity,  and 
adroitness  which  he  displayed.  Had  it  not  been  for  these, 
we  should  have  realized  nothing. 

As  it  was,  the  account  current  stood  about  as  follows : 

California  gold-mine $8,750 

Virginia  do.,  received  for  expenses 3,800 

Sales  of  Isthmus  gold-mine  stock 13,800 

Received  from  same  as  expenses 4,000 

Lake  Superior  property 5,000 

Sale  of  interest  in  Tennessee  mine 10,000 

Other;  receipts 5,000- 


$50,350 
Per  contra. 

Paid  assessment  on  Isthmus  shares $4,300 

Loss  on  experiments  with  pig-iron 4,200 

Various  small  losses 2,000 

$10,500 
10,500  — 

,$39,850 


OF      WALL-STIJEET.  309 

Iii  round  numbers,  forty  thousand  dollars  in  net  cash  was 
the  result  of  our  labors  from  say  the  first  of  January,  1849, 
to  May,  1852. 

Of  this  Harley  made  a  scrupulous  division,  although  the 
expenses  of  his  office,  compared  Avith  mine,  were  more  than 
three  to  one  ;  still  he  simplified  the  whole  by  crediting  mo 
with  just  one-fourth  of  that  net  amount,  to  wit,  with  ten 
thousand  dollars,  less  a  mere  trifle.  After  all,  not  a  bad 
business  for  something  over  three  years'  work.  How,  then, 
am  I  to  explain  the  condition  you  find  me  in  at  the  end  of 
the  time?  I  can  do  so  very  easily.  I  confess  I  was  much 
surprised  when  Harley  sent  me  his  account  current,  in  which 
I  stood  credited  with  the  above-mentioned  sum,  and  charged 
with  my  drafts  on  him,  which  amounted  to  nearly  five  hun 
dred  dollars  more  than  the  sum  to  my  credit !  On  looking 
over  the  account,  I  found  it  was  quite  correct.  Was  it  pos 
sible  that  I  had  drawn  at  the  rate  of  three  thousand  dollars 
a  year  ?  I  could  not  believe  it,  yet  it  was  so.  There  were 
the  figures,  and  the  figures  were  correct.  The  fact  is,  my 
household  expenses,  under  the  agreeable  system  of  drawing 
for  what  I  wanted,  insensibly  increased.  Not  by  Alice's 
consent ;  but  I  had,  as  already  explained,  undertaken  to  show 
some  hospitality  to  our  speculative  friends,  and  all  house 
keepers  understand  the  extra  expense  entailed  even  by  a 
small  dinner.  Then  this  involved  a  larger  outlay  in  Alice's 
wardrobe.  Besides,  I  sent  the  younger  children  to  a  more 
expensive  school,  and  Alice  had  taken  music-lessons  from  a 
first-class  teacher.  Considering  these  various  circumstances, 
it  is  not  to  be  wondered  at  that  my  expenses  were  so  much 
increased.  Indeed,  had  it  not  been  for  Alice's  careful  man- 


810  UNDERCURRENTS 

agement,  they  would  have  been  a  great  deal  heavier.  She, 
be  it  understood,  having  full  faith  in  her  father's  judg 
ment,  believed  we  were  on  the  road  to  renewed  prosperi 
ty.  Money  seemed  to  come  so  easy,  things  were  never  so 
charming  in  that  respect,  that  she  was  entirely  deceived. 
During  the  last  year,  however,  I  began  to  have  my  misgiv 
ings.  I  saw  that  Harley,  having  done  his  utmost  with  what 
he  had  in  hand,  was  not  the  man  to  pursue  failing  schemes 
forever,  but  would  certainly  lay  hold  of  new  projects,  in 
which  I  might  or  might  not  be  called  to  share.  Not  that 
he  was  in  the  least  dissatisfied  with  my  exertions.  But 
after  residing  so  long  abroad,  and  being  brought  in  contact 
with  the  very  best  class  of  speculators  there,  he  might  take 
up  some  project,  and  cut  loose  from  American  operations. 

The  dreaded  blow  fell  at  last.  I  received  a  long  letter 
from  Harley,  in  which  he  assured  me  he  did  not  think  any 
more  could  at  present  be  realized  out  of  the  matters  in  hand  ; 
he  spoke  of  certain  prospective  advantages,  of  which  I  should 
certainly  receive  my  share ;  he  said  his  own  expenses  were 
large,  necessarily  so  from  the  position  he  was  forced  to  main 
tain  ;  and  he  had  availed  himself  of  a  very  excellent  oppor 
tunity  to  embark  in  a  scheme  for  an  Italian  railway,  under 
the  direct  patronage  of  the  pope,  which  promised  more  than 
well.  That  if  the  hoped-for  success  should  crown  his  efforts 
he  should  not  forget  me — no,  assuredly  not.  Many  were  the 
kind  wishes  expressed  for  us  all ;  as  to  the  little  balance  of 
one  hundred  pounds  in  his  favor,  it  was  of  no  consequence 
whatever. 

When  I  received  and  read  this  letter,  my  heart  sunk  within 
me.  I  felt  like  a  sailor  alone  on  a  desolate  island,  abandoned 


OF      WALL-STREET.  311 

by  his  shipmates,  who  have  left  him  by  accident  or  design. 
My  first  impulse  was  to  feel  bitterly  toward  Harley.  Yet 
why  ?  Had  he  deceived  me  in  any  respect  ?  No.  Had  he 
not  lived  honestly  up  to  his  contract  ?  Yes.  Of  what  had  I 
to  complain  ?  Alas !  of  nothing,  save  my  own  folly. 

Reader,  here  was  the  loose  screw,  here  the  leak  in  the 
ship,  here  the  break  in  the  axle ;  ponder  it  well,  and  let  the 
moral  teach  you  something.  Harley  when  we  first  met  was 
thirty-five.  I  was  fifty-two.  Harley  was  of  an  age  still  to 
embark  in  a  speculative  career  ;  I  was  not.  He  pursued  it 
consistently  as  a  business.  I  struck  into  it  hoping  to  make 
a  fortune  rapidly  and  quit.  Now  he,  as  a  matter  of  policy, 
having  spent  each  year  all  he  had  earned  (at  least  ten  thou 
sand  dollars  per  annum),  had  acquired  position  and  a  reputa 
tion  for  wealth,  and  was  just  ready  to  embark  in  something 
more  promising  than  gold-mines,  patent-rights,  or  land-char 
ters  ;  but  I,  having  spent  all  I  had  earned,  had  nothing  to 
go  on  with,  or  fall  back  upon,  while  poverty,  more  hard  and 
unendurable  than  ever,  stared  me  grimly  in  the  face. 

I  sat  holding  in  my  hand  the  letter  of  Harley.  A  cold . 
sweat  broke  out  all  over  me.  It  stood  on  my  forehead,  it 
suffused  my  eyelids.  I  could  feel  it  on  my  body,  and  iny 
limbs.  I  experienced  a  painful  sensation  at  my  heart;  I 
breathed  with  difficulty,  and  was  forced  to  open  my  mouth, 
literally  gasping  for  breath.  "Oh  !  what  am  I  to  do  ?  who 
shall  comfort  me?"  I  exclaimed  aloud.  Then  it  was  I 
thought  of  my  daughter— of  Alice.  I  could  talk  with  her. 
I  could  tell  her  all.  And  she  would  forgive  her  father ;  we 
would  plan  together  what  was  to  be  done.  She  should  be 
my  confidante,  my  sympathizer.  In  a  more  humble  manner 


312  U  N  I)  E  K  C  U  II  RENTS 

than  ever  before  we  would  endeavor  still  to  have  a  happy 
home. 

At  that  moment  the  door  opened,  and  Alice  herself  en 
tered.  It  was  an  occasional  practice  for  her  to  ride  "  down 
town,"  about  the  time  I  was  ready  to  leave,  and  accompany 
me  home.  Now  she  came  in  with  a  fine  flow  of  spirits,  and 
ran  gayly  up  to  me. 

Her  lively  demonstration  was  suddenly  checked,  and  she 
exclaimed,  "What  is  the  matter,  papa,  what  has  happened?" 

"  Nothing,  my  child,  nothing  has  happened  ;  but  I  fear 
there  is  an  end  of  all  my  hopes  in  Europe." 

"Indeed." 

"  Yes.  I  have  been  fearing  it  for  a  long  time ;  and  now  I 
am  thrown  back  on  what  I  can  do  here." 

I  found  it  difficult  to  explain  to  her  just  the  exact  state  of 
things.  For  she  could  not  readily  conceive  of  so  sudden  a 
turn  in  affairs,  nor  why  I  should  be  so  distressed,  since,  as 
she  supposed,  I  had  still  occupation  here.  ^ 

At  last  she  seemed  to  take  the  whole,  as  it  were,  on  trust, 
,  and  to  appreciate  that  once  more  I  had  anxiously  to  cast 
about  for  a  few  dollars  each  day  on  which  to  live.  Then 
came  my  recompense,  my  consolation.  She  was  so  much 
older  and  stronger,  she  said,  and  understood  so  much  more 
than  formerly  how  to  economize,  and  how  to  make  things 
pleasant  for  me.  I  must  not  be  worried  a  bit !  Why,  she 
could  each,  she  could  do  ever  so  many  things,  if  necessary. 
She  kissed  me,  and  called  me  by  endearing  names,  brought 
me  my  hat  and  coat,  forced  me  away  from  the  office,  and  I 
was  made  to  feel  cheerful  in  spite  of  myself. 

I  went  home  with  my  child ;  led  home,  I  may  say,  by  ILLT. 


O  F      W  A  L  L-S  T  R  E  E  T  .  313 

I  spent  the  night  thinking  what  I  should  do.  Speculation 
was  at  that  time  rife,  why  not  undertake  various  local 
schemes  ?  My  acquaintance  was  large  among  the  specula 
tive  class.  I  rejected  this  plan  because  it  was  necessary  for 
me  to  be  in  the  way  of  earning  some  money  forthwith.  It 
was  two  months  since  I  had  received  any  thing  from  Harley, 
and  his  letter  came  just  in  time  to  prevent  further  drawing. 
Besides,  my  eyes  were  suddenly  opened,  and  I  sickened  at 
the  idea  of  such  hope-deferred  business.  Could  it  be  possi 
ble  ?  Where  was  my  reason,  my  common  sense  ?  Had  I 
been  mad  for  the  last  three  years  ? 

Twice  I  awoke  during  the  night  with  that  dreadful  sensa 
tion  at  my  heart,  which  is  only  understood  by  those  who  are 
at  times  tortured  by  what  is  termed  the  "  horrors."  Why 
hud  this  come  so  suddenly  on  me  ?  Why  for  the  last  six 
months  did  I  not  make  some  preparations  for  what,  had  I 
not  been  an  idiot,  I  might  have  known  would  come  ?  For 
six  months  affairs  had  promised  just  this  termination.  Yet 
I  kept  on  hoping  and  hoping,  and  drawing  on  Harley. 

At  last  I  did  fall  asleep,  and  slumbered  long  into  the  morn 
ing.  When  I  opened  my  eyes,  Alice  was  standing  by  me. 
She  smiled  when  she  saw  I  was  awake,  and  exclaimed,  "For 
once  you  have  overslept  yourself.  Breakfast  has  been  ready 
an  hour."  The  fact  was,  I  had  been  exhausted  by  the  sever 
ity  of  my  mental  sufferings,  and  riature  had  come  to  my  aid. 
I  rose  considerably  refreshed,  determined  to  cast  about  with 
activity  and  with  prudence. 
14 


311  U  N  D  E  II  C  U  li  II  E  N  T  S 


CHAPTER    II. 

F  K  E  S  II     STRENGTH. 

I  FOUND  I  had  neither  the  hope  nor  the  energy  which  I 
possessed  when  I  embarked  in  speculation  three  years  be 
fore.  The  habit  of  those  three  years  had  nearly  spoiled  me 
for  any  regular  pursuit.  How  hard  to  come  down  to  the 
level  of  ordinary  industry !  Besides,  how  mortifying  was 
my  situation.  My  acquaintances  were  beginning  once  more 
to  consider  me  a  man  of  wealth.  The  very  day  I  received 
that  letter  I  had  been  congratulated  on  my  fortunate  opera 
tions.  So  my  last  state  was  worse  than  the  first. 

Again  came  the  old  question,  renewed  with  triple  force, 
what  was  I  to  do  ?  I  thought  of  attempting  business  as  a 
stock-broker,  as  produce-broker,  of  trying  what  I  could  do 
in  real  estate  There  were  objections  to  all  these.  A  stock 
broker  required  some  capital,  or  at  least  a  good  credit.  I 
had  neither.  I  was  no  longer  active  enough  for  operations 
in  merchandise,  nor  had  I  sufficient  experience  in  the  busi 
ness  for  real  estate.  So  •  I  resolved  to  go  back  to  what  I 
first  undertook.  I  would  begin  once  more  the  labors  of  a 
note-broker,  and  work  industriously. 

Never  till  about  this  time  did  I  have  any  just  conception 
of  human  life,  nor  of  GOD'S  design  in  the  announcement : 
"  In  the  sweat  of  thy  face  shalt  thou  eat  bread."  No, 


OF      W  A  L  L  -  fc>  T  11  i;  12  T .  315 

never  till  now ;  and  it  happened  in  this  wise.  As  I  was 
preparing  to  resume  my  task  of  hard  daily  labor,  under 
circumstances  the  most  depressing  and  disheartening,  and 
when  it  seemed  as  if  I  could  not  sustain  myself  under  this 
last  disappointment,  a  new  light  suddenly  broke  in  on  me. 
I  always  look  back  to  it  with  a  feeling  of  profound  grati 
tude.  Up  to  that  moment  the  object  of  all  my  efforts,  my 
anxieties,  my  active  exertions,  was  to  get  back  to  where  I 
stood  before,  to  recover  my  position,  or  at  least,  to  support 
my  family  comfortably.  So,  when  I  failed  in  one  quarter, 
or  met  with  disappointments  in  another,  I  suffered  to  a 
great  degree.  Sometimes  I  was  irritable,  sometimes  com 
plaining,  and  often  bitter  and  defiant.  I  repeat,  in  all  this 
I  looked  solely  at  what  was  immediately  before  me.  If  I 
gained  somewhat,  I  was  pleased ;  if  I  lost,  I  was  depressed. 
In  fact,  my  existence  was  rounded  by  mere  occurrences. 
Even  my  moralizing— and  I  did  moralize  a  great  deal —had 
reference  solely  to  these.  It  did  not  strike  deep.  To  be 
uncomfortable  was  an  evil  [instead  of  an  inconvenience] ; 
the  reverse,  a  blessing. 

What  I  am  about  to  recount  may  seem  extraordinary, 
but  it  is  true.  On  the  day  I  decided  with  a  heavy  l.eart  to 
commence  again  rny  disagreeable  labors,  hope  had  appa 
rently  entirely  deserted  me.  I  rose  in  the  morning  miser 
able.  It  seemed  as  if  I  could  not  go  through  with  what 
lay  before  me.  Borne  down  by  the  weight  of  sad  thoughts, 
I  prepared  to  descend  to  the  breakfast-room.  My  suffering 
was  unendurable,  and  growing  every  moment  more  intense- 
Suddenly  something  whispered  to  me  audibly  :  "  How  have 
you  been  mistaken!  There  is  a  worse  thing  than  mis  tor- 


316  U  N  D  E  E  C  U  II  li  E  X  T  S 

tune  and  misery,  a  better  thing  than  wealth.     All  that  hap 
pens  to  you  shall  develop  and  enrich  your  character !" 
I  turned  and  saw  ray  wife  smiling  on  me. 

The  weight  was  lifted  off  my  heart.  I  threw  the  door 
open  and  walked  from  the  room  untrammelled,  free.  I 
knew  something  trying  awaited  me,  else  why  such  new 
strength  ?  From  that  moment  I  learned  to  regard  every 
thing  which  took  place  as  a  part  of  the  experience  which 
was  to  make  of  me,  Charles  Parkinson,  something  better 
and  more  deserving  than  I  then  was.  All  things  were 
clear  to  me.  Now  I  could  see — not  with  that  narrow  and 
circumscribed  vision  which  enabled  me  in  a  keen,  shrewd 
way  to  understand  my  error  in  joining  Harlcy,  but  with  a 
sight  which,  regarding  the  whole  circumference  of  my 
being,  carefully  surveyed  the  whole,  instead  of  a  meagre 
portion  of  it. 

The  reader  must  understand  this  extraordinary  and  sud 
den  change  was  not  what  is  termed  of  a  religious  charac 
ter,  except  so  far  as  that  enters  into  and  forms  a  part  of  our 
very  natures.  In  other  words,  I  did  not  think  any  thing 
about  GOD,  nor  what  the  priest  would  call  "  the  concerns 
of  my  soul."  It  was  the  divine  element,  breathed  into 
man  with  the  breath  of  life,  which  was  evoked  by  the 
utter  desperateness  of  my  condition.  Sinking  almost  to 
despair,  carried  down  to  the  point  of  lowest  abasement, 
the  divinity  which  stirs  within  came  to  the  rescue;  just  as 
that  strange  physical  power,  vitality,  is  said  sometimes  to 
display  its  efficacy  in  the  chamber  of  the  sick,  restoring  to 
health,  after  the  physician  has  given  up  the  case  and  gone 
away.  In  this  change  there  was  neither  a  sullen  subrnis- 


•,-v 


OF      WALL-ST  JIKET.  317 

sion  nor  n  daring  resistance  to  GOD'S  providence.  Prome 
theus,  when  chained  by  Jupiter  to  the  rock,  while  a  vulture 
was  perpetually  tearing  his  vitals,  defied  the  god,  exclaim 
ing  :  "  Do  thy  worst,  tyrant.  My  fortitude  shall  be  as  eter 
nal  as  thy  revenge !"  I  had  no  such  defiance  in  my  heart ; 
on  the  contrary,  I  regarded  Providence  as  my  friend,  per 
suaded  the  severity  of  my  fate  would  serve  to  perfect  my 
character  and  rescue  my  moral  nature  from  the  degradation 
which  during  the  past  three  years  had  threatened  it. 


318 


N  D  E  K  C  U  Ji  K  E  N  T  S 


CHAPTER  III. 

NEW      ARRANGEMENTS. 

I  TOLD  my  daughter  every  thing.  I  could  not  start  fairly 
if  any  thing  was  concealed  or  kept  back  from  her.  I  even 
repeated  how  I  had  uttered  a  falsehood  when  I  negotiated 
the  Alworthy  paper.  I  explained  in  a  way  she  could  un 
derstand  my  operations  with  Harley,  and  why  affairs  now 
looked  so  discouraging.  I  presume  many  will  think  this 
was  quite  an  unnecessary  humiliation,  as  they  may  call  it, 
serving  to  lower  me  in  the  estimation  of  my  child.  But  I, 
was  right.  And  however  for  the  moment  Alice's  feelings 
might  have  partaken  of  a  painful  pity,  I  know  she  rever 
enced  her  father  for  these  honest  avowals,  while  her  filial 
affection  was  strengthened  by  this  display  of  confidence  and 
regard. 

We  entered  at  once  on  plans  for  retrenchment.  I  was 
now  very  glad  I  had  not  taken  a  more  expensive  house, 
which  at  one  time  I  was  tempted  to  do,  and  indeed  should 
have  done  had  I  not  been  deterred  by  the  large  outlay 
necessary  for  additional  furniture.  Anna's  quarter  would 
end  the  following  week,  and  Charley's  in  a  fortnight.  They 
must  go  in  future  to  the  public  school,  and  Alice  would 
teach  Anna  music.  We  now  had  two  servants.  When 
the  "  month"  would  be  up  they  should  leave,  and  we  could 
go  back  to  a  single  domestic,  who  would  do  "  general 


OF      W  ALL-STIIEET.  319 

house- work."  Ah!  there  was  vigorous  planning  to  keep 
out  the  old  enemy,  wolf!  No  heart-pangs,  no  whining 
about  a  hard  destiny,  no  wry  faces  nor  expressions  of  suf 
fering  and  injury,  and  the  like,  but  a  manly,  I  will  say,  a 
heroic  determination  to  make  the  best  of  my  condition. 

The  reader  may  remember,  I  had  already  five  hundred 
dollars  ahead  when  I  began  with  Ilarley,  besides  the  five 
hundred  of  Alice.  I  spent,  however,  two  hundred  before 
Haiiey  left,  and  although  I  drew  the  amount  from  him  which 
I  have  put  down,  still  I  never  made  this  sum  good  to  my 
self.  But  the  remaining  three  hundred  had  not  been  touch 
ed.  It  was  placed  in  the  savings  bank  and  was  drawing 
live  per  cent,  interest.  I  had  not  however  kept  up  my 
practice  of  cash  payments  since  I  began  to  receive  money 
from  Ilarley.  Indeed  I  had  insensibly  relaxed  all  my  habits 
of  strict  economy;  it  was  so  easy  to  run  up  an  account 
(for  it  was  soon  understood  that  I  was  worthy  of  credit  at 
the  shops  and  stores),  so  easy,  when  time  for  payment  ar 
rived,  to  draw  on  Ilarley,  that  I  became  quite  unconcerned, 
not  to  say  careless,  in  these  matters.  When  I  came  to  get 
in  all  our  bills,  I  found  I  should  have  barely  money  enough 
to  provide  for  them  by  drawing  the  three  hundred  dollars 
and  interest.  A  serious  business,  but  I  must  look  it  in  the 
face.  Fortunately  the  quarter's  rent  had  just  been  paid. 
After  the  first  year,  the  landlord,  seeing  I  was  a  punctual 
tenant,  had  not  required  the  security  of  Mr.  Norwood,  so 
that  the  death  of  my  friend  had  not  forced  me  to  look  else 
where. 

Well,  my  debts  were  paid,  our  children  withdrawn  from 
the  seminary  and  sent  to  the  public  school,  our  two  excellent 


320  U  X  D  E  R  CURRENTS 

servants  given  up  and  the  general  house-work  maid  sub 
stituted  in  their  place,  and  I  once  more  launched  on  the 
street. 

On  looking  about  me  the  first  day  or  two,  I  was  struck 
more  forcibly  than  ever  with  a  fact  I  had  often  observed 
before,  to  wit,  how  rapidly  business  firms  change  in  the  city 
of  New  York.  On  inquiring  for  the  various  houses  which 
did  business  in  Wall-street  four  years  before,  I  found  at  least 
one-third  had  disappeared  and  new  ones  were  in  their  places. 
One  large  money  and  exchange  broker  had  suddenly  disap 
peared  and  never  been  heard  of.  It  turned  out  that  his 
assets  would  not  pay  two  cents  on  the  dollar.  Yet  the  man 
was  called  a  millionaire,  and  had  credit  to  any  amount. 
Another,  a  very  rich  stock-broker,  had,  in  the  midst  of  his 
operations,  been  stricken  with  paralysis,  was  carried  home, 
lived  three  months,  and  died.  This  man  insisted  a  fortnight 
before  his  decease,  helpless  and  half  imbecile  as  he  was,  on 
being  driven  in  his  carriage  to  Wall-street,  where  he  essayed 
to  undertake  his  ordinary  business  transactions.  For  three 
or  four  days  he  continued  his  ghastly  career.  But  he  had 
engaged  in  a  contest  in  which  the  odds  were  against  him 
and  where  there  was  no  discharge.  Death  claimed  him ; 
death  was  victorious,  and  Wall-street  saw  him  no  more  for 
ever.  Other  individuals  had  retired  on  their  fortunes,  most 
of  them  to  mope  out  the  remainder  of  their  lives  in  idiotic 
inactivity. '  Some  had  been  used  up,  had  left  the  street,  and 
taken  to  agriculture  with  great  good-nature,  and  had  chang 
ed  very  much  for  the  better. 

I  ought  to  say  here,  that  during  this  very  spring  culmi 
nated  and  burst  the  bubble  of  the  Concordia  Valley  Coal 


OF      WALL-STREET.  321 

Company,  of  which  the  worthy  Mr.  Tremaine  was  the  first 
president.  That  company  met  with  a  splendid  success.  Its 
shares  ran  up  to  about  par.  Tremaine  managed  its  affairs, 
or  rather  his  own  in  connection  with  it,  with  great  clever 
ness.  He  sold  out  his  stock  in  trade  and  interest  in  the 
company  the  very  first  year  to  a  set  of  unprincipled  scamps, 
who  could,  however,  control  the  market,  and  who  had  their 
own  designs  to  further.  He  received  in  payment  very  little 
money  and  a  large  amount  of  shares,  which  he  managed  to 
"teed  out"  very  adroitly,  and  which  the  parties  in  interest 
continued  to  buy  in  the  most  unsuspecting  manner ;  in  fact, 
it  was  diamond  cut  diamond.  Tremaine  kept  on  till  he  had 
disposed  of  considerably  over  one  hundred  thousand  dollars, 
at  about  eighty,  when  he  retired,  purchased  a  villa  near 
Florence,  and  for  aught  I  know,  lives  there  with  his  family 
at  this  day.  The  parties  discovered  the  sell  too  late,  but 
they  were  not  discouraged.  They  had  entire  sway  in  the 
street.  The  stock  went  up  and  down.  It  was  a  great  fa 
vorite,  and  just  the  thing  to  play  with.  Issues,  then  double 
and  treble  over-issues  were  resorted  to.  By  great  industry, 
perseverance,  and  rascality,  the  shares  were  widely  circulat 
ed,  and  then,  as  I  have  said,  the  bubble  burst  and  the  public 
suffered. 

Among  the  "curb-stone  brokers"  many  familiar  faces  were 
missing,  and  their  places  filled  by  fresh  subjects,  who  are 
generally  broken-down  merchants  and  financiers.  It  is 
rather  a  habit  with  the  curb-stone  operator  when  he  gets 
severely  winged,  to  go  into  the  cigar  business,  which,  by 
the  way,  furnishes  a  living  for  a  great  many  dilapidated 
worthies.  This  is  but  temporary.  After  a  while  they 
14* 


322  U  X  D  E  II  C  U  II  R  E  N  T  S 

recuperate,  and  you  find  them  again  at  work  on  the  pave 
ment. 

Since  I  had  abandoned  the  note  business,  two  extensive 
establishments  had  been  started,  for  the  purpose  of  affording 
greater  facilities  to  the  capitalist  for  purchasing  paper.  This 
interfered  greatly  with  the  business  of  the  small  note-broker, 
throwing  into  his  hands  only  the  poorer  descriptions.  My 
old  friend,  the  president  of  the  Bank  of  Credit,  had  resigned, 
and  his  place  was  filled  by  the  former  cashier,  who  was,  as 
I  have  already  intimated,  indebted  mainly  to  me  for  his 
promotion  in  the  bank.  In  looking  about  to  discover  where 
to  commence,  I  saw  much  to  dispirit  and  little  to  encourage 
me.  There  was  not  the  same  sympathy  to  be  excited  as  for 
Charles  Parkinson,  the  honorable  merchant  whom  misfortune 
had  struck  down  by  a  sudden  and  unlooked-for  blow,  and 
who  was  endeavoring  industriously  to  earn  a  livelihood. 
Now  (for  the  truth  leaks  out  betimes)  it  was  Charles  Par 
kinson  the  operator,  the  speculator,  who  was  resorting  to 
another  expedient  for  subsistence,  after  living  quite  at  his 
ease,  regardless  of  his  creditors,  for  so  long  a  time.  The 
public  had  discovered  my  matters  had  not  turned  out  well, 
and  I  was  lowered  at  once  in  the  public's  estimation. 

I  was  a  good  deal  discouraged.  After  some  reflection,  I 
concluded  to  consult  Downer.  Of  all  my  acquaintances, 
there  was  not  one  at  that  moment  toward  whom  I  enter 
tained  such  genial,  kindly  feelings  as  toward  him.  At  the 
same  time,  I  always  felt  reproached  when  I  thought  of  the 
uncharitable  opinion  of  him  which  I  indulged  in  at  one  time. 
It  was  not  long  before  I  encountered  Downer  in  the  street, 
for  he  had  no  office,  only  a  place  where  he  kept  a  slate,  on 


O  F      W  A  L  JL-  S  T  11  E  E  T .  323 

which  persons  who  desired  to  do  so  could  make  appoint 
ments  with  him.  I  asked  him  to  come  with  me  to  my  office, 
and  we  proceeded  thither  together.  When  we  were  seated, 
I  gave  him  a  brief  history  of  my  situation.  I  explained 
how  my  various  schemes  had  failed,  and  I  was  forced  back 
upon  my  former  plans. 

After  I  had  finished,  Downer  remained  silent  for  some 
time.  At  last  he  said :  "  Mr.  Parkinson,  I  am  sorry  for  you. 
And  to  be  sorry  for  any  body,  is  what  I  have  not  been  for  a 
long  time.  Tell  me,"  he  continued,  musingly,  "  v/ould  we 
have  believed  when  we  were  '  leading  men'  among  the  im 
porters,  that  it  could  ever  have  come  to  this  ?  It  seems  kind 
of  human-like,  though,  for  you  and  me  to  be  sitting  together, 
consulting  how,  when  the  evil  days  are  on  us,  they  can 
best  be  weathered.  It  does  me  good,  Parkinson,  it  doos 
me  good  to  have  you  give  me  your  confidence  and  ask  my 
advice." 

There  was  a  sensible  yielding  of  the  hard  tone  in  which 
Downer  usually  spoke.  And  his  voice  sounded  natural  as  he 
proceeded. 

"I  hardly  know  what  to  say,"  he  said.  "If  you  can't 
manage  to  buy  a  little  place  in  the  country,  of  course  you 
must  stay  in  New  York.  Most  people  would  tell  you  there 
were  fifty  things  you  could  turn  to.  I,  who  have  tried  it, 
know  better.  Yet,  for  you  to  stay  in  this  street,  I  can't 
bear  to  think  of  it.  I  suppose  you  find  a  great  many  changes 
since  you  quit.  Some  of  your  best  customers  are  gone,  and 
some  of  your  friends ;  changes,  too,  at  your  bank.  Twynam 
is  out  of  the  business.  Loomis,  I  hear,  is  prejudiced  against 
you.  Don't  explain,"  he  added,  quickly,  perceiving  I  was 


324  UNDKBOU  BKENT8 

about  to  speak ;  "  I  am  sure  through  no  fault  of  yours"  (it 
was,  though ;  the  reader  may  remember  the  sale  of  the 
Alworthy  paper),  "but  whosesoever  fault  it  is,  it  makes  no 
difference.  However,  nothing  like  trying,  and  there's  noth 
ing  like  luck.  You  were  in  luck  before,  and  you  may  be 
again.  As  to  me,  I  have  had  bad  luck  ever  since  I  failed.  I 
know  what  sort  of  a  character  I  bear  in  the  street.  You 
know.  Do  you  think  I  am  insensible  to  it?  Remembering 
me  as  I  used  to  be,  do  you  suppose,  after  experiencing  the 
success  I  did,  and  enjoying  position  as  a  first-class  merchant, 
and  having  my  own  ambitious  hopes  and  anticipations  like 
other  people,  I  say,  do  you  suppose  I  look  with  indifference 
on  blighted  prospects,  or  think  calmly  on  a  blighted  reputa 
tion  ?  GOD,  no!"  he  almost  hissed  out;  but  immediately 
repressing  his  emotion,  he  continued:  "It  is  all  over  with 
me.  You  understand,  I  live  to  take  care  of  the  folks.  What 
I  was  going  to  say  is,  that  it  was  bad  luck  only  which 
destroyed  my  character.  Something  like  my  arrest  two  or 
three  years  ago  by  Strauss,  Bevins  and  Company,  a  matter 
where  I  was  in  every  respect  innocent.  Once  a  bad  name, 
however,  always  a  bad  name.  Therefore,  I  say,  in  every 
thing  you  attempt  be  more  than  careful.  You  can't  come  back 
now  with  the  same  chances  you  had  just  after  you  failed ; 
still  you  have  a  good  name.  You  have  reputation,  and  it  is 
just  so  much  capital.  Besides,  poor  as  I  am,  I  think  I  can 
be  of  service ;  I  think  I  can  do  for  you  what  I  could  not  do 
for  myself.  I  will  try.  And  there's  another  thing,  Parkin 
son.  Come  in  and  see  us.  We  don't  entertain  any  company, 
but  let  us  be  pleasant  with  each  other.  Something  tells  mo 
Ave  are  going  to  have  hard  times.  Let  the  young  people  get 


OF      WALL- STREET.  326 

acquainted ;  we  shall  feel  a  little  stronger  in  this  social  way. 
But  recollect,  here  you  must  avoid  all  intimacy  with  me.  I 
am  a  lire-ship,  and  you  must  keep  clear.  I  can  help  just  the 
same.  Ah !  well  it  is  strange,  the  idea  of  my  aiding  any 
body;  but  two  are  better  than  one,  no  matter  how  impotent 
the  second  is." 

Downer  here  changed  the  subject,  and  proceeded  to  offer 
valuable  hints  and  suggestions  as  to  the  situation  of  affairs. 
He  gave  me  the  names  of  persons  who  had  money,  which 
they  employed  in  buying  paper,  or  lending  on  collaterals,  and 
yet  who  were  not  generally  known  in  the  street.  He  told 
me  how  he  thought  I  could  reach  such  a  one,  who,  if  I 
gained  his  confidence,  would  be  a  valuable  acquaintance,  and 
how  to  approach  another. 

The  great  point,  I  may  explain  here,  for  a  person  who 
undertakes  the  business  I  was  engaged  in  is,  if  possible,  to 
secure  the  confidence  of  some  moneyed  men.  If  they  are  not 
habitues  of  the  street,  all  the  better.  If,  after  many  trials 
they  iind  they  can  depend  on  you,  and  so  place  reliance  on 
what  you  say,  you  have  at  once  certain  facilities  for  doing 
business  which  are  invaluable.  Poor  Downer  had  none  of 
these.  By  a  series  of  misfortunes  he  had  lost  the  confidence 
of  every  body  in  the  street.  A  note  was  looked  on  with 
suspicion,  simply  because  he  had  it  in  his  possession.  But 
his  keen  wits,  his  extensive  knowledge  of  parties  and  his 
familiarity  with  the  business,  enabled  him  to  render  essential 
outside  service  to  other  note-brokers,  by  which  he  managed 
to  pick  up  enough  to  support  his  family. 

Downer's  observations,  when  he  set  about  carefully  to 
advise  me,  were  clear  and  sagacious,  untempered  with  any 


326  tJNDERC  UK  RENTS 

bitterness  of  expression  or  misanthropical  views.  He  gave 
me  a  correct  idea  of  the  situation  of  the  street,  the  changes 
which  had  taken  place,  and  many  little  alterations  in  the  way 
of  doing  business.  Then  he  rose,  shook  my  hand  and  with- 
d  rew. 


OF      W  A  L  L-S  T  B  E  E  T  .  327 


CHAPTER    IV. 

A     CONSULTATION. 

I  SET  to  work  without  delay.  I  called  on  many  old  ac 
quaintances,  who  received  me  kindly,  and  heard  my  state 
ment  of  what  I  proposed  to  do.  It  was  very  evident,  how 
ever,  they  no  longer  entertained  that  good  opinion  of  my 
mercantile  ability  which  they  had  before  my  embarking  in  a 
speculative  career.  Their  treatment  of  me,  to  all  appearance, 
was  the  same  as  ever,  but  a  species  of  magnetism  told  me  I 
had  lost  the  sympathetic  hold  on  them  I  had  before.  I  was 
prepared  for  this,  it  was  the  natural  result,  and  I  had  no 
right  to  complain.  I  did  not  complain.  One  of  the  gentle 
men  to  whom  Do\vner  referred  me  as  employing  his  funds 
in  the  street,  proved  to  be  on  intimate  terms  with  Goulding. 
This  latter  personage  had  kept  watch  of  me  all  the  time 
during  the  past  four  years.  On  one  occasion  he  had  even 
employed  a  lawyer  to  take  out  "subsequent  proceedings" 
against  me  on  the  judgment  he  had  recovered  in  Bulldog's 
name,*  and  put  me  under  examination  with  reference  to  any 
property  I  might  have  acquired  since  my  assignment.  Mr. 

*  I  learned  from  pood  authority  that  GOULDING  applied  to  BULLDOG  to  proceed 
iuraii'.st  me  on  this  judgment,  and  that,  r>uu.no<;  answered  with  an  oath  that  he  wouldn't 
do  it,  swearing  that  PAHKINSON  was  too  hard  a  nut  to  crack,  because  he  was  fool  enough 
to  let  his  feclinis  run  away  with  his  judgment,  and  couldn't  be  reasoned  nor  compro 
mised  with. 

He  never  forgot  my  turning  him  out  of  my  house.  It  increased  his  respect  for  me 
raarvelloii.lv.  <•.  E.  p. 


328  U  X  D  E  R  C  U  11  11  E  N  T  S 

Norwood,  kind,  considerate  man  that  he  was,  had  guarded 
mo  against  this.  By  his  account,  I  was  still  indebted  to 
Alice  for  certain  articles  given  to  her  by  her  mother,  which 
on  the  sale  I  had,  with  her  consent,  received  the  money  for. 
This  more  than  disposed  of  the  five  hundred  dollars  placed 
in  her  hands.  I  was,  therefore,  quite  prepared  for  Gould- 
ing's  action.  He  did  not  push  his  investigations  beyond  a 
single  examination,  and  he  never  meddled  with  me  after  that. 
But  he  continued  my  persistent  enemy.  I  found  I  could  not 
enter  into  business  transactions  with  any  one  it  was  possible 
for  him  to  influence,  and  it  is  very  easy  to  influence  where 
money  or  credit  is  concerned. 

In  calling  on  another  gentleman  recommended  by  Downer, 
I  encountered  Loomis,  and  although  the  man  nourished  no 
vindictive  feeling  against  me,  still  he  had  received  an  un 
favorable  impression  in  the  Alworthy  affair,  and  did  not 
hesitate  to  express  it  when  inquired  of.  This  I  deserved, 
but  the  acts  of  Goulding  were  persecution.  I  submitted  to 
both  as  part  of  what  I  had  to  go  through.  One  taught  me 
how  we  are  forced  to  bear  the  consequences  of  doing 
wrong,  even  when  we  repent  of  the  wrong ;  the  other  added 
to  my  strength,  for  the  conviction  that  we  suffer  unjustly  is 
an  extraordinary  element  of  endurance. 

I  soon  discovered  I  must  take  up  with  a  lower  depart 
ment  in  the  business,  and  deal  with  a  poorer  class  of 
paper.  The  rent  of  my  office  had  been  raised  after  Tre- 
maine  left  the  coal  company,  and  I  decided  I  must  take  an 
other,  by  which  I  could  save  fifty  dollars  a  year.  My  new 
room  was  smaller  than  the  old  one,  and  not  in  so  good  a  lo 
cation  ;  but  it  was  unobjectionable,  and  I  took  some  pains, 


O  F      W  A  L  L  -  S  T  R  E  E  T.  329 

or  rather  Alice  did,  to  make  it  look  cheerful  and  pleasant. 
It  was  a  great  happiness  to  see  her  busy  arranging  this  little 
office,  changing  the  furniture  from  one  place  to  another,  till 
it  exactly  suited  her.  And  I  said  to  myself,  as  I  stood  re 
garding  her  :  "  No,  I  am  not  to  be  discouraged  with  such  a 
treasure  ;  a  child  so  watchful  and  considerate,  so  loving  and 
devoted."  Yet  how  my  heart  had  sunk  within  me  before, 
when  I  first  adventured  in  Wall-street,  when  I  had  so  much 
more  to  encourage  me  than  now  !  Then  I  had  the  active 
sympathy  of  business  men,  recently  excited  by  my  misfor 
tunes.  I  was  four  years  younger ;  I  was  buoyed  up  by  a 
certain  hope  that  things  might  still  take  a  turn  for  the  bet 
ter.  Yet  I  did  not  feel  the  strength  I  now  felt,  advanced  in 
life,  with  no  hope  of  any  improved  condition,  and  nobody 
to  encourage  me  but  Downer. 

Before,  I  did  not  experience,  to  any  great  extent,  the 
power  of  the  human  spirit.  For  I  did  not  place  myself  in 
the  way  to  receive  its  aid.  I  ought  to  have  done  so.  I  had 
read  a  hundred  times  that  u  The  spirit  of  man  will  sustain 
his  infirmity,"  but  I  do  not  think  I  ever  considered  what  it 
meant.  I  now  saw  that  if  I  would  have  the  immortal  part 
come  to  the  support  of  the  mortal  and  finite,  I  must  be 
genuine.  It  was  not  enough  to  be  an  honest  merchant, 
honest  in  all  affairs ;  honest  in  social  life,  but  I  must  be  an 
honest  MAN.  So  long  as  what  I  was  striving  for,  however 
laudable  or  proper,  was  not  the  great  end  for  which  to 
strive ;  in  other  words,  if  I  was  striving  right,  but  for  a 
wrong  reason,  the  spirit  would  not  sustain  me  under  dis 
comfiture.  For  example,  I  needed  to  be  sustained  in  my 
failure,  in  my  subsequent  trials,  when  I  lost  my  wife.  In  a 


330  U  X  J)  K  K  <J  U  E  K  E  X  T  S 

measure,  I  was  so.  But  it  was  rather  by  a  strength  derived 
from  a  fine  physical  energy,  from  great  resolution  and  a  de 
termined  purpose,  than  through  any  support  from  the  soul. 
I  do  not  know  if  I  make  myself  understood.  If  I  fail  to  do 
so,  I  shall  fail  in  one  of  the  objects  of  this  narrative.  For 
it  is  in  this  view  of  myself  that  I  hope  to  interest  the  reader. 
However  insignificant  the  perusal  of  this  history  may  appear, 
the  history  of  the  workings  of  the  human  spirit  cannot  be 
regarded  with  indifference,  and  teaches  a  profound  lesson. 

Let  me  repeat,  then  :  when  I  failed  in  1847,  and  in  all  my 
struggles  and  efforts  and  experiences  afterward,  I  enjoyed 
no  unwavering  and  consistent  support.  My  wife  could 
comfort  me;  my  children  could  make  me  happy;  various 
circumstances,  from  time  to  time,  produced  an  agreeable  but 
temporary  state  of  exaltation  ;  but  I  enjoyed  nothing  of 
that  calm,  that  tranquillity  which  belong  to  him  who  under 
stands  what  life  is  made  for,  and  whom  the  spirit  labors  un 
remittingly  to  sustain.  Now  I  was  about  to  start  afresh 
under  circumstances  still  more  disheartening,  but  with  the 
conscious  me  supporting  the  active,  stirring,  every-day  in 
dividual.  The  house  was  no  longer  divided  against  itself. 
What  was  the  result  of  this  union  of  forces,  we  shah1  pres 
ently  see. 


OF    w  A  L  L - s  T  n  ;•:  K T .  331 


CHAPTER   Y. 

AN      UNFORTUNATE      CLASS. 

DEALING  in  a  poorer  quality  of  paper,  I  was  brought  in 
contact  with  an  entirely  different  class  of  people.  This  led 
me  to  observe  how  completely  one's  occupation  is  apt  to 
control  the  character.  In  a  previous  chapter,  in  giving  a 
description  of  Wall-street,  I  spoke  of  the  different  grades 
of  notes  and  bills  offered  in  the  market,  and  explained  how, 
after  getting  below  a  certain  quality,  the  .rate  rules  enor 
mously  high,  and  holders  have  to  submit  to  great  sacrifices. 
The  important  point  then  is,  to  find  some  person  who  knows 
the  paper.  But  such  a  person  is  sure  to  take  advantage 
of  his  knowledge  in  making  the  purchase.  That,  of  course, 
the  broker  expects,  only  too  glad  to  sell  at  any  price. 

It  \vas  distressing  to  see  the  nervous,  anxious  people  who 
had  to  raise  money  from  day  to  day.  Such  persons  form  a 
class,  and  this  class  is  perpetuated,  from  year  to  year,  out  of 
the  individuals  struggling  to  maintain  a  respectable  front. 

It  seems  miraculous  how  this  class  can  endure  such  a 
never-ending  state  of  bondage.  Some  of  these  are  fashion 
able,  their  connections  are  of  the  first  distinction,  their  as 
sociations  most  desirable.  They  keep  up  handsome  estab 
lishments  ;  they  earn  by  their  pursuits  four  thousand  dollars 
a  year,  and  spend  five  thousand.  They  always  anticipate 


332  U  X  D  E  11  C  U  B  K  E  X  T  S 

what  is  due  them,  and  are  always  harassed  for  ready  money. 
They  are  honorable  fellows,  and  would  not  plead  usury 
under  circumstances  the  most  aggravating.  They  make 
notes,  and  get  a  broker  to  sell  them.  This  broker,  under 
standing  their  antecedents,  and  who  they  are  most  intimate 
with,  goes  probably  to  some  rich  friend  of  the  particular 
"party"  wanting  a  loan,  who  is  thoroughly  acquainted  with 
the  "  case,"  and  who  knows  that  the  note  will  be  paid  when 
due,  although  at  the  sacrifice  of  putting  a  new  one  on  the 
market,  and  getting  it  shaved  elsewhere.  So  he  cashes  it  at 
a  fearful  rate,  puts  the  broker  under  an  oath  of  secrecy  not 
to  reveal  where  he  got  the  money,  which  oath  it  is  for  the 
broker's  interest  to  keep,  and  our  fashionable  acquaintance 
is  relieved.  He  hurries  home  in  time  for  the  opera  or  a 
dinner-out,  and.  meeting  several  duns  in  the  hall,  he  pays 
them  off  and  sets  about  his  evening's  enjoyment. 

There  are  others  who,  having  secured  an  excellent  gov 
ernment  contract,  either  "general,"  "state,"  or  "corpora 
tion,"  need  friends  to  help  them  through  with  it.  They 
can  afford  to  pay  well  and  they  do  pay  well  for  cash  accom 
modations.  In  fact  the  street  is  full  of  persons  about  to 
realize,  who  want  money  a  little  in  advance  of  the  period, 
and  who  are  ready  to  pay  a  large  bonus  for  it.  The  result 
is,  they  do  all  the  work,  and  the  money-lender  gets  nearly 
all  the  profits.  Sometimes  this  latter  personage  mistakes 
his  investment  and  makes  a  loss.  But  he  can  well  afford  it. 
And  he  never  quarrels  with  the  man  who  has  been  so  un 
fortunate  as  to  "let  him  in."  He  knows  he  can't  do  with 
out  such  people,  so  he  nurses  them  along  when  it  is  neces 
sary.  He  treats  them  with  as  much  care  as  a  planter  treats 


OF      \V  A  L  L  -  S  T  U  E  E  T  .  333 

a  valuable  negro  who  has  been  taken  ill,  and  for  precisely 
the  same  reason. 

Among  those  who  habitually  want  money  are  builders 
with  little  capital,  who,  having  taken  a  contract,  find  they 
must  raise  more  cash  than  they  anticipated  to  go  through 
with  it.  When  their  necessities  are  discovered,  they  have 
to  bleed  freely.  Often  the  capitalist  who  has  engaged  these 
men  to  erect  a  row  of  buildings  for  him  is  the  very  person 
to  shave  their  notes,  at  the  rate  of  four  per  cent,  a  month, 
or  cash  their  checks,  dated  a  few  days  ahead,  at  the  mod 
erate  charge  of  cent,  per  cent.  Very  safe  operation  this, 
since  the  money  has  already  been  laid  out  by  the  builder, 
though  perhaps  not  quite  due  under  the  contract,  or  it  may 
be  it  is  withheld  through  some  quibble,  in  order  to  make 
these  very  operations.  Now,  reader,  you  must  understand 
that  such  delicate  little  matters  are  managed  through  the 
intervention  of  third  parties.  The  builder,  foolish  man,  fan 
cies  he  is  keeping  up  his  credit  because  he  meets  his  obli 
gations  at  such  fearful  sacrifice.*  He  does  not  wish  the 
wealthy  proprietor  to  know  how  hard-up  he  is,  for  fear  he 
may  not  think  him  reliable  for  another  contract.  So  he  em 
ploys  a  broker,  who  takes  care  to  be  thoroughly  posted  in 
all  his  affairs,  and  who  goes  straight  to  the  man,  of  all 
others,  the  poor  builder  wishes  to  avoid. 

*  I  shall  never  forget  with  what  gusto  a  wealthy  acquaintance  once  pointed  out  to 
me  a  block  of  buildings  he  had  just,  erected,  remarking:  "There  is  a  row  of  what  I 
call  honest-built  houses.  Not  a  thing  slighted,  from  cellar  to  roof.  Drew  the  contract 
myself;  one  must  build  two  or  three  times  to  learn  how.  I  don't  leave  any  loop-hole 
for  extras.  I  tell  you,  the  fellow  who  did  that  work  lost  a  heap  of  money  by  it.  I 
was  afraid  he  would  break  down  when  he  saw  how  it  was  going,  materials  rose  so  i'ast, 
but  he  stuck  it  out  like  a  trump.  ' 

Yes,  this  rich  man  actually  chuckled  over  the  idea  that  an  honest,  high-minded  me 
chanic  had  lost  a  couple  of  thousand  dollars  and  a  whole  season  besides,  in  manfully 
carrying  out  his  agreement.  "  Honest-built  houses"  indeed! — c.  K.  r. 


334  U  K"  1)  U  R  C  U  11  R  E  N  T  S 

To  this  inferior  class  of  paper  belongs,  as  I  have  said,  an 
inferior  class  of  brokers.  Men  who  are  willing  to  wait  on 
a  set  of  supercilious,  avaricious,  mean  creatures  ;  to  follow 
their  suggestions ;  to  run  back  and  forward  to  carry  out 
their  plans  of  low  cunning  for  getting  high  rates  and  triple 
security.  I  say  who  are  "  willing"  to  wait — rather  who  are 
forced  to  do  so.  For  only  a  dire  necessity  compels  such  an 
allegiance. 

I  was  disappointed  in  the  kind  of  people  these  brokers 
proved  to  be.  I  had  associated  them  with  whatever  was 
tricky  and  dishonest.  I  did  them  great  injustice.  While 
there  are  of  course  a  good  many  unprincipled  persons 
among  them,  the  majority  are  simply  unfortunate.  Men 
who  have  been  driven  into  this  business  by  stress  of  weath 
er.  They  are  a  poor,  hard-working,  and  sympathizing  set. 
For  I  know  of  no  misery  so  despairing  that  it  does  not 
"love  company,"  or  which  avoids  association.  And  I  be 
lieve  the  wretched  slave  of  the  nabob  and  usurer,  griper 
and  money-knave  of  Wall-street  may  hereafter  find  a  place 
in  the  kingdom  of  heaven,  wrhen  these  latter  miscreants  are 
"  thrust  out."  I  can  truly  record  that,  with  some  special 
exceptions,  which  should  only  prove  the  rule,  I  was  treated 
with  more  kindness  and  congeniality  by  the  individuals  just 
alluded  to,  than  I  had  ever  before  experienced  from  any 
class.  They  are  really  sorry  if  you  are  in  trouble ;  they  ex 
hibit  genuine  regret  if  you  meet  with  a  disappointment ; 
and  they  will  take  pains  to  remove  an  obstacle  from  your 
path,  whenever  they  can  do  so. 


OF      WALL-STREET.  335 


CHAPTER    VI. 

DEATH      OF      MRS.      HITCHCOCK. 

ABOUT  this  time  Mrs.  Hitchcock  was  taken  sick  and  died. 

Soon  after  our  first  acquaintance,  I  procured  for  her  the 
third  story  of  a  small  house,  quite  near  our  own,  which  was 
occupied  by  a  worthy  family,  who,  desiring  to  economize, 
concluded  to  rent  a  part.  This  was  easily  arranged  for 
housekeeping,  and  afforded  the  widow  an  agreeable  home 
at  a  low  price.  She  had  an  abundance  of  needle-work,  and 
by  close  economy,  mother  and  daughter  managed  to  sup 
port  themselves.  Matilda  was  a  constant  visitor  at  our 
house.  She  was  as  unlike  Alice  as  possible,  and  perhaps 
for  that  reason  the  two  girls  became  attached  to  each  other. 
It  was  not  always  easy  to  remain  on  intimate  terms  with 
her.  She  was  so  sensitive,  and  consequently  so  quick  to 
take  offence,  so  proud,  so  passionate,  and  at  times  so  unre"a- 
sonable,  that  I  used  to  wonder  how  Alice  managed  to  keep 
up  the  intimacy.  On  the  other  hand,  she  manifested  so 
many  noble  and  generous  traits,  she  was  so  kind-hearted,  so 
disinterested,  so  truthful,  so  affectionate,  that  she  attached 
one  to  her  in  an  extraordinary  degree,  despite  her  faults. 
Her  character  showed  ever-varying  phases  of  cloud  and 
sunshine,  of  storm  and  pleasant  weather.  After  all,  such 
natures  attract  more  powerfully  than  any  other. 

Of  these  two,  if  Matilda  appeared  to  be  the  controlling 


336  U  X  D  E  R  C  U  II  II  E  N  T  S 

spirit,  being  the  readier  and  more  demonstrative,  it  was 
Alice's  influence,  after  all,  which  led.  Not  through  any 
contest  or  competition,  but  by  acquiescence  of  her  com 
panion  as  something  natural,  and  as  a  matter  of  course. 
The  result  was,  they  became  firm  and  devoted  friends. 
Matilda  was  about  three  years  the  younger,  yet  she  had  an 
extraordinary  maturity  of  mind  and  body.  So  that,  really, 
the  t\vo  appeared  to  be  of  the  same  age. 

Matilda  Hitchcock  had  one  great  fault,  which  it  was  im 
possible  to  correct,  scarcely  to  modify.  She  would  not  sub 
mit  to  circumstances.  On  the  contrary,  she  perpetually  de 
plored  and  resisted  what  she  called  her  miserable  destiny. 

"Why  did  GOD  make  me  so?"  she  would  exclaim  ;  "why 
have  I  such  a  love  for  every  thing  rare  and  expensive,  and 
such  a  disgust  for  whatever  is  common  and  coarse,  when  I 
was  born  in  poverty,  and  when  I  am  destined  forever  to 
suffer  in  poverty  ?  I  am  fond  of  gayety.  I  love  society.  I 
should  enjoy  life  in  the  world  ;  my  tastes  are  expensive ;  my 
ideas  unsuited  to  my  position;  I  cannot  help  it.  I  was  made 
so,  but  why?  Does  it  not  seem  unjust?  You  need  not  look 
shocked.  I  didn't  make  myself  I  didn't  make  my  tastes. 
I  didn't  make  my  condition.  I  can't  control  my  fate.  I  hate 
every  thing  and  every  body,  and  I  wish  I  were  dead  !" 

Such  was  the  occasional  strain  indulged  in  by  this  singu 
lar  girl.  Alice,  shocked  by  expressions  bordering,  as  she 
considered,  on  the  blasphemous,  would  attempt  to  reply,  to 
argue  and  explain.  It  was  never  of  the  least  use.  The 
dark  hour,  however,  would  presently  pass,  and  not  a  trace 
of  all  this  bitterness  remain.  It  was  sure  to  return,  some 
times  at  brief  intervals.  For  whenever  Matilda  went  in 


OF      WALL-STREET.  337 

sight  of  the  gay  world,  where  she  could  witness  the  display 
of  the  rich  and  fashionable,  and  see  the  parade  made  by 
fine  equipages,  fine  dresses,  and  so  forth,  she  gave  way  to 
the  same  freedom  of  speech,  unrestrained  by  remonstrance 
or  entreaty. 

I  have  mentioned  a  strange  habit  of  hers,  when  a  child : 
to  be  sure  she  could  no  longer  indulge  in  such  extraordi 
nary  exhibitions,  but  she  made  it  up  in  the  violence  and  ex 
travagance  of  her  observations.  It  served  no  purpose  to 
contradict,  or  attempt  to  silence  her.  The  only  course  was 
to  wait,  and  let  the  paroxysm  pass.  Then  it  would  be  all 
sunshine,  and  you  would  witness  such  tokens  of  a  rich  and 
affluent  and  noble  nature,  that  those  unhappy  characteristics 
would  be  lost  sight  of;  thought  of  no  more,  and  no  more 
remembered,  till  some  disturbing  causes  again  brought  them 
to  the  surface. 

I  have  already  spoken  of  Matilda's  beauty.  At  sixteen 
this  came  to  be  marvellous.  She  herself  was  perfectly  sen 
sible  of  it,  without  exhibiting  a  disagreeable  consciousness 
on  the  subject.  A  latent  fondness  for  admiration  gradually 
developed  itself,  I  thought ;  not  striking  ;  perhaps  not  more 
than  the  majority  of  girls  manifest.  Yet,  in  her  position, 
it  was  a  dangerous  quality.  She  knew  it  very  well,  and  it 
lent  an  additional  argument  to  her  discourse,  when  the 
"  fit"  seized  her.  Sometimes  she  would  be  subject  to  the 
impertinence  of  men,  or  annoyed  by  their  meddling  curi 
osity  in  attempting  to  discover  where  she  resided.  Then 
she  would  curse  the  day  in  which  she  was  born,  and  find 
fault  with  her  MAKER  in  the  manner  I  have  already  ex 
plained. 
15 


338  UND  E  RCUKRE  NTS 

Alice's  influence  on  Matilda  was  admirable.  The  latter 
had  an  impressible  nature.  The  two  wore  much  together  ; 
and,  as  I  have  said,  the  mild  but  decided  bearing  of  my 
daughter,  always  consistent,  and  always  the  same,  had  great 
influence  with  her  companion.  Charley  and  Anna  were  also 
very  fond  of  her,  so  she  was  always  welcome  at  our  house. 

Returning  home  one  afternoon,  I  found  Alice  absent,  and 
a  message  for  me  to  follow  her  to  Mrs.  Hitchcock's. 

O 

I  hastened  to  her  residence,  where  I  found  her  just  reviv 
ing  from  a  very  severe  attack ;  similar  indeed  to  the  one 
she  was  seized  with  the  evening  I  first  met  her.  I  was 
struck  with  the  extraordinary  pallor  of  her  countenance. 
In  it  an  experienced  eye  could  not  fail  to  recognize  the 
finger  of  death. 

The  widow  was  quite  conscious  of  her  situation.  When 
I  came  in,  she  motioned  Matilda  and  Alice  out  of  the  room. 
Her  daughter  left  with  reluctance,  but  Alice  quietly  drew 
her  away. 

Mrs.  Hitchcock  pointed  to  a  seat,  and  said:  uMy  time  is 
very  short.  I  shall  die  with  a  heavy  load  at  my  heart  if 
you  cannot  accede  to  what  I  am  about  to  request."  .  .  . 

She  paused  to  take  breath.     She  was  fast  failing.     .     .     „ 

"  Matilda — my  child,''  she  continued,  as  it  were  to  herself, 
"oh!  what  days  and  nights  of  anxiety  have  I  passed  for 

you  !  how  can  I  leave  you  exposed  to — to Promise  to 

adopt  her  as  your  child,"  she  said  suddenly,  and  with  start 
ling  energy.  "  Promise  /" 

The  widow's  hands  were  clasped  in  supplication.  She 
looked  in  my  face  with  eyes  supernaturally  brilliant  and 
piercing. 


OF      WALL-STREET.  339 

I  dared  not  hesitate  an  instant.  I  took  her  clasped  hands 
in  mine,  and  said  :  "  I  do  promise." 

"  Call  her,"  she  gasped. 

The  two  girls  came  back  together.  Up  to  this  moment 
Matilda  had  been  in  no  great  alarm.  She  thought  the 
worst  of  the  attack  was  over, 

"  Matilda,"  said  Mrs.  Hitchcock. 

"  Yes,  mother." 

"  You  will  go  home  with  Mr.  Parkinson.  He  accepts 
you  as  one  of  his  children." 

"  What  does  this  mean  ?"  exclaimed  Matilda,  turning  in 
dignantly  toward  me. 

I  made  no  reply,  but  pointed  toward  the  bed. 

On  it  already  a  corpse  was  extended. 


340  UNPEKCUKKENTS 


CHAPTER    VII. 

MORALIZING. 

THE  reader  has  already  perceived,  if  he  have  devoted 
ordinary  attention  to  the  topic,  as  he  ran  over  these  pages, 
that  one  object  which  I  have  in  view  is,  to  attract  notice  to 
a  class  in  Wall-street  (using  that  as  a  representative  local 
ity)  who  suffer  and  die  in  harness.  That  while  I  do  not 
ignore  the  claims  of  the  "  lower  classes"  (about  whom  it  is 
now  so  fashionable  to  write  tales  and  romances,  whose  chier 
merit  frequently  consists  in  the  ingenuity  with  which  broken 
English  is  manufactured  for  their  use,  such  certainly  as  they 
never  themselves  employ),  I  have  a  design  to  present  in  a 
single  volume  the  claims  of  those  who  are  precipitated  from 
a  certain  point  of  prosperity  into  a  wretchedness  almost  in 
describable  ;  who  suffer  beyond  any  human  conception  ;  and 
who  at  last  miserably  disappear. 

Yes,  I  wish  to  print  such  a  book,  and  ask  philanthropists 
to  read  it;  people  who  honestly  seek  a  field  for  their  active 
benevolence  to  work  in.  Did  they  know  the  aching  hearts 
concealed  under  a  most  respectable  exterior,  which  are  to  be 
encountered,  and  which  present  much  stronger  appeals  than 
those  suffering  bodily  want,  it  seems  to  me  they  would  en 
deavor  to  devise  some  plan  for  their  relief. 

Is  there,  after  all,  to  be  no  radical  change,  which  shall  cure 
some  of  these  evils?  Probably  not.  Our  SAVIOUR  said:  "Ye 


OF      WALL-STREET.  341 

have  the  poor  always  with  you."  Doubtless,  we  shall  have 
the  miserable  also.  Still,  we  attempt  to  assist  the  poor ;  let 
us  try  to  relieve  the  heavy-hearted.  Just  now  will  not 
people  be  apt  to  consider  ?  May  it  not  be,  that  out  of  the 
general  calamity  which  encompasses  us,  there  will  spring 
an  increased  regard  for  the  condition  of  our  neighbor  ? 

I  do  not  know. 

It  is  with  a  species  of  awe  that  I  see  a  man  who  feels  that 
his  destiny  in  this  world  is  settled,  who  understands  that  be 
is  sunk  into  a  state  of  chronic  misfortune,  encounter  face  to 
face  an  arrogant  rich  man,  who  considers  his  own  position 
secure  beyond  contingency.  How  the  countenance  of  each 
describes  what  each  has  experienced,  is  experiencing- !  There 
they  stand  together.  How  superciliously  the  sleek,  amply 
dressed,  complacent  man  of  wealth  regards  the  hard-featured, 
iron-marked  man  of  adversity ! 

"  I  am  lord  paramount,  you  a  poor  devil ;"  you  can  read 
it  as  plain  as  if  it  were  printed. 

"I  know  it."     That  is  the  reply — printed  deep  too. 

Now,  I  say,  if  the  man  of  misfortune  is  not  possessed  of  a 
high  moral  sense,  which  teaches  him  to  regard  this  world  as 
a  part  of  a  comprehensive  and  compensating  whole,  he  will 
not  only  feel  bitterly  toward  that  rich  man,  but  he  will  be 
very  apt  to  reason  himself  into  the  belief,  that  it  is  very  un 
just  that  such  an  insolent,  overbearing  creature  should  be  in 
possession  of  all  his  heart's  desire,  while  he  is  ground  down 
in  misery.  Then  he  may  reason,  that  what  can  be  got  out 
of  such  a  man,  in  any  way,  will  be  a  just  depletion.  So, 
insensibly  he  may  be  led  into  crime,  and  thereupon  suffers 
the  "penalty  of  the  law." 


342  UNDER  CURRENTS 

This  is  right,  of  couise;  but  how  much  of  this  crime  is 
morally  chargeable  to  the  other?  I  should  not  be  surprised, 
if  some  time  in  the  long  future,  he  should  be  called  on  to 
answer  the  question.  •'  -.  -  •;  : 

A  few  weeks  after  the  receipt  of  the  Harley  letter,  the  suit 
about  the  Bond-street  house  was  brought  to  a  final  decision, 
in  the  Court  of  Appeals.  That  decision  was  in  my  favor,  or 
rather  in  favor  of  my  children.  So  Goulding  not  only  gained 
nothing,  but  had  a  large  bill  of  costs  to  pay,  besides  heavy 
counsel  fees.  The  victory  was  dearly  bought.  The  expenses 
on  my  side  were  very  large.  In  this  I  felt  sensibly  the  dif 
ference  between  Mr.  Norwood  and  a  strange  lawyer,  who 
took  no  personal  interest  in  my  family.  After  paying  all 
that  was  chargeable  in  the  suit,  and  then  deducting  the  bill 
of  Norwood  and  Case,  now  represented  by  Mr.  Case,  against 
the  estate,  scarcely  two  thousand  dollars  remained !  Of  this 
two- thirds  were  decreed  to  be  invested  for  the  benefit  of  the 
two  younger  children.  Alice's  portion  was  retained  in  court, 
on  suggestion  of  counsel,  that  she  would  in  a  few  months  be 
twenty-one,  and  could  then  receive  it  in  person.  I  experi 
enced  some  degree  of  despondency  when  I  beheld  what  I 
once  considered  a  sure  resource  for  my  children,  to  the 
amount  of  at  least  five  thousand  dollars,  diminished  to  so 
small  a  sum.  But  I  checked  the  feeling.  I  would  not  per 
mit  such  an  enemy  to  enter  when  of  right  I  ought  to  be  con 
tent,  since  a  litigation,  uncertain  as  every  litigation  is,  had 
terminated  in  our  favor.  Besides,  had  I  not  resolved  to  turn 
whatever  came  to  pass  to  my  advantage  ?  Walking  on  a 
pleasant  errand  is  easy.  Laboring  for  a  rich  result  gratify 
ing.  I  was  now  to  labor  always  for  a  rich  result! 


OF     WALL-STREET.  343 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

MATILDA. 

THERE  was  one  thing  inexplicable  in  Matilda  Hitchcock. 
She  did  not  exhibit  the  least  feeling  at  the  loss  of  her  moth 
er.  Except  that  she  was  more  reserved  than  before,  no  one 
could  perceive  the  slightest  difference  in  her  demeanor.  The 
fact  that  she  was  now  to  be  an  inmate  of  my  house,  and,  as  it 
would  seem,  dependent  on  me,  appeared  to  irritate  her.  So 
far  from  manifesting  any  gratitude,  a  stranger  would  suppose 
she  was  suffering  daily  some  wrong  at  my  hands.  At  length 
I  spoke  to  Alice  about  her  singular  conduct,  and  suggested 
that  my  daughter  should  talk  with  her.  Alice,  however, 
advised  me  not  to  notice  these  strange  exhibitions.  She  said 
it  would  only  make  matters  worse  should  we  pay  any  atten 
tion  to  them.  "  She  is  so  different  from  other  girls,  papa.  If 
we  let  her  alone,  her  good  sense  will  triumph ;  if  we  attempt 
to  interfere,  we  shall  go  from  bad  to  worse." 

I  thought  of  Matilda's  father,  my  classmate,  and  could 
see  in  the  daughter,  magnified  and  distorted,  the  same  char 
acteristics  which  had  given  force  to  the  man's  career ;  yet 
the  same  qualities  led  him  to  quarrel  with  his  uncle  at  the 
expense  of  his  birthright.  And  my  heart  grew  soft,  and  I 
told  Alice  she  should  have  her  own  way  with  her  friend. 

A  week  passed — Matilda  had  been  with  us  a  month — 


UNDEIICUKKENTS 

when  one  morning  after  breakfast  she  desired  to  speak  with 
me. 

When  we  were  alone  together  she  said  :  "  I  want  to  thank 
you  for  affording  me  food  and  shelter  so  long.  I  am  now 
going  to  leave." 

I  was  astonished.     "  Where  are  you  going,  my  child  ?" 

"  I  do  not  know ;  where  I  can  support  myself." 

"Ah  !  you  think  my  circumstances  so  straitened  that  you 
are  an  additional  burden.  Is  it  not  so  ?" 

"  No,  indeed,  it  is  not.  Had  you  been  rich,  I  would  not 
have  staid  one  week.  It  is  because  I  know  you  are  not  rich 
that  I  have  been  able  to  remain  so  long." 

"I  scarcely  understand  you." 

"  I  do  not  know  if  I  understand  myself,"  exclaimed  Ma 
tilda  passionately ;  "  but  yes,  you  can,  you  do  understand 
how  in  the  family  of  a  person  of  wealth  I  should  feel  all  the 
time  as  if  I  were  the  object  of  their  complacent  charity. 
In  your  house  I  have  no  such  feeling,  because  I  know 
you  are  struggling  hard  yourself  and  cannot  feel  the  rich 
man's  contempt  for  the  poor.  I  can't  explain  myself,"  she 
added  with  impatience;  "I  only  can  repeat  what  I  have 
said." 

"Then,  why  can't  you  remain  with  us." 

"  Because  I  am  not  willing  to  be  dependent.  I  wont  be 
dependent  on  anybody.  Mother  fretted  her  life  away,  in 
debted  daily  to  the  patronizing  charity  of  religious  hypo 
crites,  who  claim  to  confer  favors  by  giving  her  work  to  do 
at  half-price.  She  is  dead  and  gone.  I  am  glad — yes,  glad 
her  weary  life  is  over.  For  me,  I  will  never  be  dependent 
on  human  being,  no,  not  for  the  slightest  aid." 


OF      W  A  L  L  -  S  T  R  E  E  T  .  345 

I  looked  earnestly  at  the  girl.  She  seemed  almost  to  defy 
me.  My  first  impulse  was  to  show  becoming  indignation, 
and  with  all  proper  severity  of  manner  to  read  her  a  sound 
moral  lecture  on  the  folly,  the  wickedness  of  such  feelings, 
to  austerely  explain  how  we  all  are,  and  must  be  dependent: 
first  on  GOD,  then  on  each  other,  and  so  forth.  My  mouth 
was  open  with  an  important  dignity  to  go  through  with 
these  trite  truisms.  But  I  paused  ere  I  spoke  the  first  word 
of  my  discourse,  for  something  told  me  that  the  girl's  des 
tiny  would  turn  on  my  treatment  of  her  that  morning. 
There  she  sat,  self-willed  and  imperious.  Her  manner,  too, 
was  provoking  and  tantalizing.  Strange,  what  a  marvellous 
beauty  she  displayed  in  this  exhibition.  There  Was  no  aifec- 
tation  in  the  scene,  not  a  bit.  She  was  thoroughly  genuine. 

Her  decided,  independent  bearing,  coupled  with  expres 
sions  w^hich  certainly  showed  a  wrong  state  of  feeling,  and 
were  very  censurable,  prompted  me  to  the  moral  harangue 
aforesaid  ;  the  interest  excited  by  displays  of  so  extraor 
dinary  a  nature,  the  recollection  of  her  orphan  condition, 
the  thought  of  how  weak  and  powerless  she  really  was, 
while  she  bore  herself  so  bravely,  touched  me  aright,  and 
the  idea  of  the  moral  lecture  vanished.  A  natural  view  of 
the  situation  came  in  its  place. 

"  You  are  not  so  far  out  of  the  way,  Matilda,  as  some 
persons  might  suppose,"  I  said.  "  You  are  too  old  for  me 
to  manage  as  I  would  Anna,  and  therefore,  I  think,  old 
enough  to  be  reasonable.  Now  then,  as  you  have  no  plan 
except  to  avoid  a  state  of  dependence,  which  is  intolerable 
to  you,  and  as  I  know  you  love  Alice  and  the  children,  and 
used  to  like  to  come  here,  I  propose  that  you  pay  into  the 


346  IT  N  D  E  K  C  U  B  R  E  N  T  S 

common  treasury  what  really,  on  a  fair  computation,  we  shall 
decide  it  actually  costs  us  extra  for  your  being  here.  For 
the  present,  your  needle  can  easily  provide  that,  without 
any  appeals  to  the  'benevolent'  people  you  detest  so  much, 
and  we  will  hope  something  better  in  the  future.  Beyond 
this,  I  am  sure  you  wont  insist  on  my  making  money  out  of 
you  as  a  boarder." 

I  smiled  The  tears  came  into  Matilda's  eyes,  and  she 
walked  hastily  out  of  the  room.  From  that  day  it  was  all 
right.  Alice  and  she  fixed  the  rate  of  the  weekly  stipend  ; 
in  short,  the  latter  interested  herself  at  once  in  our  daily 
routine,  and,  through  my  daughter,  soon  came  to  know  as 
much  of  my  own  daily  affairs  as  Alice  herself.  I  do  not 
mean  to  say  that  her  infirmities  of  temper  were  cured :  by 
no. means.  But  she  felt  at  home  in  our  house,  and  appeared 
to  take  the  same  interest  in  what  occurred  as  if  she  was  one 
of  my  own  children  ;  and  I  believe,  from  that  time  she  had 
for  me  feelings  similar  to,  if  not  as  strong,  as  those  she 
would  have  had  for  her  own  father.  The  fact  was,  Matilda 
required  from  her  infancy  a  firm  but  reasonable  and  consis 
tent  government.  When  I  got  better  acquainted  with  her, 
I  discovered  she  relished  the  rule  of  a  strong  hand,  provided 
it  really  was  strong  and  always  right.  Her  mother  had  not 
undertaken  to  restrain  her.  She  knew,  indeed,  how  to  touch 
her  feelings,  and  unfortunately,  used  to  strike  the  string  too 
often.  Indeed,  to  the  weakness  of  her  mother's  manage 
ment  could  be  attributed  a  great  share  of  the  daughter's 
faults. 

Long  as  I  had  lived  in  the  house  I  now  occupied  (over 


OF      W  ALL-S  TKE  ET.  347 

four  years),  I  had  made  no  acquaintance  with  any  of  the 
neighbors.  For  the  first  season  after  leaving  Bond-street,  I 
attended  service  at  our  old  church,  where  I  owned  a  pew, 
and  where  I  had  paid  the  regular  assessment  for  the  year. 
After  that  expired,  I  was  in  the  habit  for  a  time  of  going  to 
different  churches  Sunday  mornings  as  inclination  dictated. 
Sometimes  I  staid  at  home,  sometimes  I  went  with  the  chil 
dren.  For  Alice  had  herself  selected  a  church  near  by, 
because  she  was  so  much  pleased  with  the  minister — a  good 
old  man  of  the  Baptist  persuasion. 

Now,  I  determined  to  look  about  me,  discover  what  sort 
of  human  beings  dwelt  in  my  immediate  neighborhood,  and 
interest  myself  in  whatever  should  prove  of  interest  around 
me.  I  would  bring  myself  back  within  the  pale  of  human 
sympathies,  and  form  a  part  of  the  world  within  my  reach, 
instead  of  merely  vegetating  in  it  while  I  was  hoping  for 
better  times.  My  daughter,  I  repeat,  had  selected  the 
church  she  preferred  to  attend,  and  where  Anna  and  Charley 
went  regularly  to  the  Sunday-school.  Besides,  she  knew 
several  of  the  neighbors,  and  felt  the  very  interest  in  some 
of  them  that  I  was  myself  disposed  to  cultivate.  Now  that 
I  was  to  be  pressed  every  moment  by  anxious  cares,  and 
tortured  lest  I  might  not  earn  enough  for  our  daily  wants,  it 
seemed  to  me  all  at  once  that  life  was  very  rich,  if  I  could 
only  stay  by  the  way  and  enjoy  it.  Many  were  the  beauti 
ful  thoughts  which  had  floated  through  my  brain  in  the 
years  I  had  lived — thoughts  of  a  higher  life,  of  exquisite 
happiness,  of  the  changing,  the  joyous,  and  the  free  in  this 
world  and  out  of  it — beyond  it ;  had  these  all  vanished  and 
forever  ?  Was  a  time  yet  to  be  when  these  should  come 


348  UNDERCURRENTS 

back  and  become  once  more  enjoyable,  when  I  could  call 
them  mine  ? 

Recollect,  reader,  I  had  lost  ray  companion,  and  it  was 
natural,  at  times,  that  a  deep  melancholy  should  steal  over 
me.  But  it  was  only  on  occasions.  Deciding  I  ought  to 
humanize  myself  by  taking  part  in  what  went  on  around 
me,  I  told  Alice  I  should  hereafter  go  every  Sunday  morn 
ing  to  the  church  with  her.  I  made  inquiries  about  the 
persons  who  lived  near  us.  I  ascertained  that  a  book-keeper 
in  one  of  the  banks,  by  the  name  of  Austin,  resided  next 
door,  on  our  right.  Opposite  lived  the  proprietor  of  a 
livery  stable ;  next  to  him,  a  ship-carpenter ;  on  our  left,  a 
clerk  in  a  large  wholesale  dry-goods  house.  This  last  fam 
ily  had  two  boarders,  which  helped  to  support  one  of  their 
children  at  an  expensive  school.  The  Austins  were  refined 
people  ;  the  husband,  a  quiet,  sensible,  unambitious  man  ; 
the  wife,  intelligent  and  well-bred.  They  had  no  children, 
and  lived  very  pleasantly  together.  The  other  family  had 
harder  work  to  make  the  year  meet,  for  they  had  a  large 
family ;  but  the  wife  managed  well,  and  the  husband  was 
kind  and  good-tempered,  and  laughed  when  many  would 
have  made  sour  faces. 

Now,  reader,  don't  think  I  mean  to  impose  on  you  by  at 
tempting  to  make  you  believe  I  am  to  enjoy  the  surround 
ings  of  these  people  as  well  as  I  did  those  of  the  circle  of 
congenial  friends  I  had  left,  and  who  brought  around  them 
every  thing  wealth  could  bring  to  make  life  pleasant  and 
delightful.  Other  people  may  talk  such  cant  to  you.  I  will 
not.  But  what  I  could  compass  was  this.  I  could  find  out 
— I  did  soon  find  out — that  there  were  honest  hearts  and  re- 


OF      W  ALL-STKEET.  349 

fined  natures  in  every  condition.  That  these  do  not  depend 
on  wealth,  while  wealth  lends  to  these  additional  charms, 
and  frequently  smooths  the  rough  and  disagreeable  qualities 
of  very  coarse  people.  I  could,  with  an  appreciative  spirit, 
seek  for  the  good  and  true  around  me,  and  whenever  I 
found  it,  I  would  enjoy  and  honor  it.  So  I  listened  to  the 
benevolent  white-haired  old  minister,  as  he  preached  on 
Sunday,  and  exchanged  words  of  greeting  with  various 
members  of  the  congregation.  With  some  this  widened 
into  an  acquaintance,  so  that  I  began  to  take  an  interest  in 
the  church  society.  We  had  our  poor  to  look  after,  our  va 
rious  interests  to  foster,  and  our  general  charities  to  bestow. 
I  began  to  form  a  strong  attachment  for  Mr.  Selleck,  for  he 
seemed  to  have  no  idea  but  how  to  serve  the  spiritual  inter 
ests  of  his  people.  IIo\v  independent  of  soul  he  must  have 
been  who  had  not  the  slightest  thought  of  self-interest,  and 
cared  only  to  do  good !  I  could  not  help  contrasting  him 
with  the  fashionable  clergymen  who  dispense  religion  d  la 
mode  to  admiring  audiences,  who  quit  the  presence  with  the 
complacent  feeling  that  the  path  to  heaven  has  been  made 
very  comfortable  for  them.  I  was  thus  gradually  coming  to 
an  appreciation  of  what  was  honest  and  real,  and  an  abhor 
rence  for  the  counterfeit  in  life. 

Matilda  did  not  enter  with  any  relish  into  Alice's  Sunday 
occupation.  She  did  not  like  to  attend  church,  she  said ; 
the  building  was  hideous,  the  congregation  dressed  in  bad 
taste,  and  altogether  a  vulgar-looking  set.  Besides,  the 
clergyman  had  a  habit  of  snuffing. 

Now,  many  will  hold  up  their  hands  in  horror,  at  such  an 
irreligious  demonstration  in  one  so  young.  What  a  mistake ! 


350  UNDERCURRENTS 

The  simple  truth  was,  that  Matilda's  senses  were  so  delicate 
and  her  appreciation  so  nice,  that  certain  sights  and  sounds 
shocked  her  eyes  and  ears,  which  would  produce  no  effect 
on  ordinary  organizations ;  just  as  a  person  with  a  fine  mu 
sical  ear  detects  a  discord  where  another  perceives  only  har 
mony.  This  was  the  secret  source  of  the  greater  part  of 
her  miseries,  and  to  this  most  of  her  faults  were  chargeable. 
This  same  subtle  sense  made  her  dislike  common  clothing, 
and  admire  whatever  was  rich,  so  that  her  tastes  were  ex 
pensive  ;  it  gave  her  a  love  for  the  refinements  of  wealth, 
and  a  disgust  for  poverty.  Failing  to  possess  what  she  ap 
preciated  so  fully,  and  forced  daily  to  take  up  with  what 
was  repugnant  to  her,  she  displayed  at  times  an  irritability 
of  temper,  coupled  with  many  passionate  demonstrations, 
which  made  her  character  appear  in  a  very  unhappy  light. 
Yet  the  poor  girl  could  not  help  this  extraordinary  tempera 
ment,  neither  was  she  to  blame  for  it.  Unfortunately,  no 
thing  had  been  done  when  she  was  a  child  to  moderate  its 
intensity,  and  now  it  was  quite  too  late  to  eifect  a  change. 
However,  Matilda  did  go  to  church,  but  I  doubt  if  she  de 
rived  much  benefit  from  what  she  heard. 

In  and  about  the  house  she  was  charming.  Competent  as 
Alice  herself,  with  a  more  demonstrative  energy  and  reso 
lution,  she  accomplished  whatever  she  undertook  in  the  most 
successful  manner.  Thus  she  really  helped  to  lighten  the 
load  which  I  had  to  carry,  which  was  destined  to  become 
more  and  more  heavy  as  the  years  rolled  by. 


OF      WALL- STREET.  351 


CHAPTER    IX. 

FKINK. 

To  be  obliged  to  spend  five  dollars  a  day,  and  be  able  to 
earn  but  three  dollars,  gives  one  a  gloomy  look  into  the 
future.  To  a  person  accustomed  to  "doing  business"  on  a 
large  scale,  it  would  seem  a  very  petty  affair  to  secure  five 
dollars  per  diem— so  I  used  to  think.  But  when  one  is 
ousted  from  one's  position  and  divorced  from  one's  circum 
stances,  it  is  not  easy  to  lay  hold  of  a  new  opportunity. 
Charles  the  footman,  in  becoming  livery,  giving  complete 
satisfaction  to  his  employer,  at  twenty-five  dollars  a  month, 
is  quite  a  different  person  from  Charles  discharged — in  dis 
grace — walking  about  in  very  plain  clothes,  not  earning  a 
dollar,  and  eating  into  his  last  month's  wages  very  fast. 
You  would  not  know  it  was  the  same  person.  Indeed  it  is 
doubtful  if  Charles  recognizes  himself. 

Now,  stop  one  moment,  reader.  In  imagination,  separate 
yourself  from  your  position.  Think  how  it  would  be  with 
you.  Cut  off,  this  instant*  your  business,  your  income, 
your  old  associations — all.  Turn  yourself  (thank  GOD  that 
it  is  only  imagination)  loose  into  the  street,  and  be  told  to 
earn  five  dollars  a  day.  Ay,  let  it  be  understood  you  and 
your  children  will  STARVE  if  you  don't  earn  it,  and  try  and 
fancy  how  to  do  it !  Beat  your  head  against  the  dead  wall. 
There  is  no  door  there  which  opens  as  doors  used  to  open 


352  UNDERCURRENTS 

to  you.  You  strive,  you  agonize.  You  have  had  enough 
of  it.  You  implore  to  have  the  spell  dissolved,  and  you 
returned  to  your  friendly  associations. 

With  me,  it  was  not  fancy  work,  but  fact. 

It  seemed  at  first  as  if  I  should  never  get  started.  The 
first  money  I  made  on  this  return  to  business  was  three  dol 
lars  on  a  hundred-dollar  note,  and  this  was  through  the 
agency  of  Downer.  For  there  was  but  one  man  in  the 
street  who  would  buy  the  paper,  and  his  name  was  Frink. 
He  occupied  a  small  hole,  literally  seven  by  nine,  up  two 
pair  of  stairs,  in  a  side-street  leading  out  of  Wall.  Downer 
directed  me  to  him.  I  found  a  man  apparently  about  sixty- 
five  years  old.  He  was  at  work  at  his  check-book  when  I 
entered.  He  did  not  even  look  up,  but  continued  his  addi 
tion.  I  sat  down.  In  about  five  minutes  he  paused  from 
his  labors  and  peered  at  me  over  his  spectacles. 

"  Will  you  take  this  note  ?"  I  said,  at  the  same  time  plac 
ing  it  in  his  hand. 

Thereupon  the  following  dialogue  ensued : 

"  What's  your  name?" 

"  Parkinson." 

"  Don't  recollect  seeing  you  before." 

"  Perhaps  not," 

"  Parkinson"  (repeating  to  himself).  "  Wasn't  you  in 
the  silk  business  in  '37  ?" 

"  Yes." 

"  I  was  in  the  dry-goods  business  myself.  Went  out  of  it 
the  year  before ;  thought  I  remembered  the  name." 

Another  pause. 

"You  in  the  note  business  ?" 


OF      WALL-STREET.  353 

"Yes."  C:V 

"  Haven't  been  in  it  long  ?" 

"  No,  not  long." 

"  Do  you  know  this  man  ?"  looking  at  the  note. 

"  I  don't  know  the  maker." 

"  What  was  it  given  for  ?" 

"  I  believe  for  castings." 

"  You  know  this  other  man  ?"  meaning  the  endorser. 

"  I  have  seen  him  two  or  three  times." 

"  Did  you  get  the  note  from  him  yourself?" 

"I  did." 

"  What  do  you  expect  for  it  ?" 

"  You  can  have  it  at  two  per  cent,  a  month."  I  had  been 
told  it  was  idle  to  offer  less. 

Honest  Mr.  Friuk  paid  no  attention  to  my  reply,  but  pro 
ceeded  to  fill  out  a  check.  When  it  was  signed  he  handed 
it  to  me,  saying :  "  That's  the  best  I  take  his  notes  at." 

I  saw  on  glancing  at  the  amount  that  the  old  blood 
sucker  had  deducted  three  per  cent,  a  month.  As  it  did 
not  exceed  my  instructions,  and  as  I  saw  Mr.  Frink  meant 
what  he  said,  I  pocketed  the  check  and  came  away.  By 
this  transaction  I  made  three  dollars — the  voluntary  offering 
of  my  man,  who  had  given  up  all  hope  of  getting  the  note 
cashed,  and  was  delighted  to  get  the  money  at  any  sacri 
fice. 

This  Frink,  let  me  tell  the  reader,  was  worth  over  half  a 
million  of  dollars.  He  had  no  family,  no  relatives,  as  I  was 
told.  He  resided  in  New  Jersey  to  avoid  being  taxed  in 
New  York  ;  and  for  abundant  caution,  was  careful  to  keep 
his  name  out  of  the  city  directory.  He  was  never  known 


354  U  N  D  E  K  C  U  K  R  E  N  T  S 

to  bestow  a  cent  in  charity,  or  to  do  any  human  being  a 
kindness.  He  took  great  pains  to  make  himself  acquainted 
with  second  and  third  and  even  fourth-rate  paper,  and  was 
exceedingly  shrewd  in  his  judgments  about  it. 

"  What  will  become  of  this  man  ?"  said  I  to  Downer  as 
he  finished  a  pretty  long  story  about  him,  which  it  is  un 
necessary  to  repeat  here. 

"What  will  become  of  him?"  repeated  "he;  "Why,  some 
time  or  other  he'll  swallow  a  dollar  the  wrong  way  and 


die." 


I  could  not  help  smiling  at  the  practical  and  very  literal 
character  of  Downer's  response,  but  forebore  to  follow  it 
up  by  inquiring  as  to  any  speculations  my  friend  might 
entertain  concerning  Frink's  destiny  after  the  dollar  was 
swallowed.  I  thought  a  good  deal  nevertheless,  about  this 
man.  He  excited  in  my  breast  a  profound  feeling  of  com 
passion.  As  I  walked  homeward,  I  asked  myself,  "  Is  he 
never  to  change  ?  must  he  go  on  so  always  f  What  would 
induce  you  to  take  his  place  ?" 

A  shudder  passed  over  me  at  the  bare  idea.  I  drew  a 
long  breath,  experiencing  a  sense  of  relief,  in  being  assured 
of  my  own  identity.  "  What  does  it  matter,"  I  said,  "  how 
poor  I  am,  how  hard  I  am  pressed,  so  long  as  I  feel  as  I 
do?"  I  was  very  rich  at  that  moment,  in  all  my  emotions  ; 
and  I  was  happier,  I  do  believe,  as  I  walked  along,  than 
ever  I  was  before. 


O  F      AV  A  L  L  -  S  T  II  E  E  T  .  355 


CHAPTER    X. 

THE      PAWNBROKER. 

Do  the  best  I  could,  it  was  impossible  for  me  to  meet  our 
necessary  expenditures.  I  had  a  good  many  notes  to  sell, 
but  the  men  who  would  purchase  drove  such  hard  bargains, 
that  the  commissions  were  necessarily  small.  It  was  aston 
ishing  how  close  they  all  calculated.  On  one  occasion,  I 
was  asked  what  commission  I  expected  to  charge  on  the 
transaction  ;  I  answered  frankly,  when  the  griping  wretch 
insisted  on  my  allowing  him  that  before  he  would  give  me 
the  money. 

"  You  must  make  your  man  pay  you,"  was  all  I  could  get 
from  him. 

As  I  was  limited  by  the  owner,  and  knowing  the  note 
would  be  sold  elsewhere  by  other  brokers,  I  preferred  to 
close  the  matter,  and  do  the  whole  for  nothing  to  losing  a 
customer.  Very  different  business  indeed  from  the  ready, 
off-hand  work  of  disposing  of  first-class  paper. 

At  the  end  of  three  months,  I  was  decidedly  behind 
hand.  We  owed  the  servant  two  months'  wages.  The 
grocer  a  two-weeks'  bill.  The  butcher  also  for  two  weeks. 
The  children  all  required  new  shoes ;  some  summer  dresses 
were  necessary.  I  myself  should  at  least  have  a  new  hat. 
I  could  not  bear  the  idea  of  disturbing  Alice's  treasure,  so 
carefully  placed  in  the  savings  bank.  What  had  I  best  do? 


356  UXDEKCUREENTS 

Up  to  that  time  I  had  never  visited  a  pawnbroker's  shop. 
It  seemed  as  if  it  were  a  species  of  humiliation  to  enter 
one.  Disappointed  in  receiving  a  small  sum  I  had  that  day 
counted  on,  and  knowing  I  must  not  go  home  without  some 
money,  I  determined  to  make  the  trial.  I  had  in  my  pocket 
a  valuable  watch,  of  an  approved  maker.  It  had  cost  me 
two  hundred  dollars.  I  looked  at  it.  Never  did  it  seem  so 
much  of  a  companion  as  at  that  moment.  I  strolled  slowly 
along  Nassau-street,  till  I  reached  the  Park,  and  stood  quite 
undecided.  It  was  here  that  Downer,  on  his  way  home, 
came  up  with  me. 

"  What  are  you  waiting  for  ?" 

I  told  him. 

"It's  of  no  use,"  he  replied,  "to  pawn  any  thing.  You 
will  lose  it,  that's  all ;  and  you  will  be  just  as  bad  off  after 
ward.  If  you  have  any  thing  to  part  with,  sell  it ;  for  you 
will  keep  on  paying  twenty-five  per  cent,  per  annum  for 
two  or  three  years,  perhaps,  and  it  goes  in  the  end." 

"  That  may  be."  I  said,  "  but  there  is  no  help  for  it ;  I 
must  have  the  money  to-night." 

"  Hold  on,  Parkinson,"  said  Downer,  as  I  started  to  cross 
the  street.  "Let  me  go,  I  have  been  through  with  it,  just 
as  lief  as  not,  I  tell  you." 

I  was  on  the  point  of  assenting,  and  had  partly  raised 
my  hand  to  my  pocket,  when  I  looked  in  his  face,  and  saw 
his  harsh,  repulsive  features  betraying  the  strongest  feeling. 
He  seemed  actually  as  if  he  were  in  pain  on  my  account. 
Had  I  been  a  child,  about  exposing  myself  to  some  great 
peril,  he  could  not  have  appeared  more  apprehensive  or  con 
siderate. 


OF      WALL-ST  II  EET.  357 

"No,  my  friend!"!  exclaimed,  "I  will  go  through  it 
too  ;  better  now  than  at  any  other  time." 

"  Mind,  you  ask  for  as  much  again  as  you  want,"  he  said. 

I  nodded,  and  crossed  over  to  where  Simpson  displays 
three  golden  balls,  the  arms  of  the  Lombard  merchants, 
who  were  the  first  in  old  times  to  lend  money  on  pledge  of 
chattel  securities. 

My  heart  beat  violently  as  I  entered.  I  would  not  thrust 
myself  in  one  of  the  coffin-like  stalls,  but  walked  straight 
up  to  the  counter,  where  a  man  was  already  engaged,  at 
tempting  precisely  what  I  proposed  to  do,  to  wit :  to  get  a 
loan  on  his  watch. 

He  had  just  handed  it  in.  Behind  the  counter  stood  not 
a  black-eyed,  long-bearded,  sharp-visaged  Jew,  as  my  im 
agination  had  pictured,  but  an  intelligent,  business-like 
looking  individual,  who  carelessly  opened  one  side  of  the 
watch,  and  shutting  it  again,  without  the  least  examination, 
said :  "  How  much  do  you  want  ?" 

"  Twenty-five  dollars,"  replied  the  man. 

"  Will  give  you  ten." 

"  Can't  you  give  fifteen  ?" 

"  Only  ten." 

"  Well,  take  it." 

It  was  now  my  turn.  My  hand  trembled  as  I  drew  out 
my  watch.  The  fate  of  my  predecessor  augured  poorly  for 
me. 

The  watch  was  speedily  transferred  to  the  hand; of  the 
pawnbroker.  The  same  careless  examination  was  passed, 
just  a  springing  of  one  of  the  sides,  as  if  by  habit,  and  then 
the  monotonous,  "  How  much  do  you  want  ?" 


358  UNDERCURRENTS 

"  I  must  have  fifty  dollars  on  it." 

"  'Tis  good  for  that,"  was  the  answer,  "  but  we  are  not 
loaning  now  over  twenty-five  dollars  on  any  watch.  The 
demand  is  so  great,  and  we  must  give  our  small  customers 
the  preference." 

"  I  suppose  so,  but  really  I  must  have  this  money,  and  I 
beg  you  to  accommodate  me." 

There  was  a  moment's  hesitation  ;  then  he  turned  around, 
and  took  up  two  pieces  of  paper. 

"  What  name  ?"  he  inquired. 

"  Parkinson." 

In  just  a  minute  a  ticket  was  handed  to  me  (the  name 
written  on  it  looked  more  like  Frogson,  than  any  thing 
else).  Fifty  dollars  were  placed  in  my  hands,  and  the 
transaction  was  closed.  A  new-comer  took  my  place,  and, I 
inarched  away  triumphant.  I  felt  very  grateful  to  the  man 
behind  the  counter.  I  hardly  knew  why,  but  I  stepped  out 
on  the  pavement,  with  a  happy  appreciation  of  the  institu 
tion  of  pawnbrokers,  since  it  could  thus  so  suddenly  bring 
relief  to  the  suffering.  Just  then  I  cast  my  eyes  up  at  the 
dial-plate  on  the  City  Hall,  and  was  surprised  that  it  was  so 
late,  and  unconsciously  I  undertook  to  compare  the  time 
with  my  own.  My  hand  took  its  usual  course  to  my  watch- 
guard,  but  it  grasped  vacancy ;  a  slight  pang,  and  it  was 
over.  After  all,  my  friend  of  the  three  balls  had  a  very 
perfect  security,  and  an  excellent  rate  of  interest. 

"  Well !  all  right  ?"     It  was  Downer's  voice. 
"All  right." 

"  Mind,  I  say,  you  have  been  very  foolish.  Such  a  thing 
as  a  watch  gets  to  be  a  part  of  yourself.  You  shouldn't 


OF      WALL-STREET.  359 

have  parted  with  it.  You  should  have  imagined  you  had 
no  watch,  and  then  you  would  have  managed  some  way  to 
"  raise  the  wind"  without  it.  1  tell  you,  it's  so.  What 
are  you  going  to  do  when  you  have  pledged  every  thing  ?" 

"  GOD  knows." 

Downer  shook  his  head,  and  we  separated,  each  on  his 
way  home. 

When  I  came  to  pay  off  the  petty  debts  which  had  accu 
mulated,  I  found  I  had  but  eighteen  dollars  left,  with  which 
to  purchase  shoes  and  summer  dresses !  How  the  fifty  dol 
lars  had  melted  away  !  Never  mind.  I  must  keep  at  work. 
I  gave  Alice  no  opportunity  to  ask  questions  that  night. 
The  next  day,  I  went  early  to  the  office.  I  thought  I 
should  escape  unobserved,  but  I  did  not.  I  heard  nothing 
about  it,  though,  for  several  days.  One  evening,  after  din 
ner,  I  was  seated,  reading  the  newspaper,  when  a  ring  at 
the  door  was  followed  by  the  girl  bringing  in  a  small  box, 
carefully  done  up,  and  directed  to  me.  I  proceeded  to  open 
it.  The  young  ladies  raised  their  eyes  with  a  very  natu 
ral  air  of  inquiry.  I  found  a  neat  morocco  watch-case,  in 
which,  on  opening,  I  discovered  my  own  handsome  lever ! 
I  was  amazed.  I  hardly  knew  what  to  say  or  do.  I  im 
agine  I  looked  a  little  foolish,  too,  for  the  young  ladies  kept 
eying  me,  and  I  fancied,  with  an  air  of  ill-suppressed  mirth. 
But  when  I  proceeded,  with  a  kind  of  vacant  deliberation, 
to  put  on  the  watch,  both  the  girls  burst  out  in  screams 
of  laughter.  They  jumped  up  and  stood  before  me,  and 
laughed  and  laughed,  till  I  assumed  to  be  angry,  and  told 
them,  half-smiling  all  the  time,  to  have  done  with  such  non 
sense.  I  asked  them  what  there  was  to  lau^h  at,  when  a 


360  U  X  D  E  B  C  U  H  R  E  N  T  S 

gentleman  received  his  watch  back  from  the  jeweller's 
clean  ?" 

"  Oh !  nothing,  nothing,"  and  away  they  went  again,  half- 
crazy,  one  would  suppose. 

You  know,  reader,  I  enjoyed  the  scene  very  much  ;  but  I 
enjoyed,  also,  affecting  to  be  vexed  over  it.  I  could  get  no 
explanation  from  either  of  the  conspirators.  So  I  put  on  my 
watch,  and  never  parted  with  it  again,  and  I  wear  it  now  as 
I  write.*  .....  ... 

It  was  utterly  impossible  for  me  to  earn  a  living  for  my 
self  and  family,  but  I  did  all  I  could.  I  gladly  made  three 
dollars,  two,  even  one  dollar.  I  kept  on,  however,  extend 
ing  my  acquaintance,  and  gaining,  from  day  to  day,  an  in 
sight  into  matters  I  knew  little  of  before.  Had  I  permitted 
myself  to  do  as  many  persons  around  me  did,  and  taken 
advantage  of  the  situation  of  people  who  were  thrown  in  my 
hands  ;  had  I  chosen  to  lie,  and  deceive,  and  cheat,  I  could 
have  squeezed  out  dollars  enough  to  support  us.  But  this  I 
never  did,  I  never  could  do.  I  acted  honestly,  and  with  con 
science.  Alice  knew  precisely  how  we  were  situated.  She 
knew  I  was  falling  behind  hand  every  month.  She  exerted 
herself  to  the  utmost  to  economize.  I  could  see  this  in  so 
many  little  things,  which  she  thought  escaped  my  observa 
tion.  Matilda  was  not  one  whit  behind  Alice.  She  took 
occasion,  however,  to  abuse  the  world  liberally,  and  declared 
often,  she  could  see  no  justice  in  my  being  exposed  to  so 
much  distress,  while  knaves  had  every  thing  their  own  way. 

*  I  learned  some  time  after,  that  it  was  MATILDA  who  first  discovered  I  did  not  carry 
my  watch  as  usual.  Thereupon,  its  whereabouts  was  suspected,  and  the  pawn-ticket 
filched  from  my  pocket.  Then  the  two  girls  actually  sold  some  of  their  trinkets,  to 
raise  the  money  to  redeem  the  watch. — C.  B.  p. 


OF      WALL-STREET.  361 

Meanwhile,  my  petty  debts  accumulated  in  spite  of  me.  For 
the  first  time,  too,  since  my  wife  died,  I  was  obliged  to  em 
ploy  a  physician.  Charley  got  wet  through  and  through  in 
a  soaking  rain  one  Saturday,  while  enjoying  his  holiday.  He 
came  home  chilled,  and  went  to  bed  with  a  high  fever.  The 
next  day,  he  was  seized  with  inflammation  of  the  lungs,  and 
for  a  time  his  life  was  despaired  of. 

Thus,  to  the  burden  of  poverty  was  added  the  sickness  of 
my  child,  and  with  it,  a  serious  apprehension  as  to  the  re 
sult. 

16 


362  UNDERCURRENTS 


CHAPTER    XI. 

VARIOUS     MATTERS. 

CHARLEY  recovered  after  several  weeks'  illness.  But  not 
to  enjoy  again  his  usual  health.  One  of  his  lungs  was  per 
manently  affected,  so  that  any  overexertion  or  exposure 
confined  him  within  doors.  I  cannot  express  how  sad  I  was 
to  witness  this.  I  was  not  aware  before  how  much  I  was 
depending  on  the  future  of  my  boy.  He  was  nearly  thirteen, 
and  could  I  hold  out  a  few  years  longer,  what  might  not  lie 
accomplish  for  us  ?  After  a  little,  my  new-found  strength 
came  to  my  support,  and  I  worked  resolutely  on.  I  could 
see  compensation,  even  in  this  last  misfortune.  His  delicate 
health  refined  and  elevated  Charley's  nature.  It  made  Anna 
very  considerate  of  him,  and  threw  an  additional  softness 
over  the  demeanor  of  the  whole  family.  Still  Matilda  took 
frequent  occasion  to  arraign  PROVIDENCE  for  thus  afflicting 
me.  I  did  not  attempt  to  argue  with  her,  that  was  impossi 
ble,  for  it  would  only  excite  and  irritate  her.  So  I  would 
make  no  reply,  except  to  say  pleasantly,  "  Read  the  ninth 
and  tenth  verses  of  the  second  chapter  of  Job,"  which  some 
times  had  the  effect  to  silence,  if  not  to  convince  her. 

Meantime,  I  continued  to  run  behind-hand.  The  summer 
was  over,  and  we  had  to  provide  again  for  winter.  There 
was  but  one  way  to  do,  and  that  was,  to  endeavor  to  get  an 
advance  on  Alice's  share  in  the  house  fund,  which  would  be 


OF      WALL- STREET.  363 

paid  to  her  when  she  was  twenty-one.  Despite  my  utmost 
exertions,  1  was  forced  to  make  petty  debts,  and  thus  lived 
in  perpetual  purgatory.  Through  Mr.  Case,  I  obtained  an 
advance  of  three  hundred  and  fifty  dollars,  out  of  the  six 
hundred  and  fifty  which  my  daughter  was  to  receive  in  about 
three  months.  Alice  entered  into  an  agreement,  by  which 
she  assigned  sufficient  of  that  sum  to  pay  the  advance,  and 
which  obligation  contained  a  careful  statement  that  the 
money  was  for  her  support,  clothing,  and  general  mainte 
nance.  This  was  an  extraordinary  relief,  yet  it  was  consum 
ing  the  little  capital  which  remained  to  us.  Never  mind,  we 
will  work  on ! 

And  we  did  work  on,  through  the  year,  through  the  win 
ter,  through  the  spring,  into  another  summer ;  a  new  sum 
mer,  when  the  trees  were  covered  with  foliage,  and  nature 
was  everywhere  in  bloom,  rich,  prodigal,  joyous.  No  way 
impeded  by  man's  distresses,  the  sun,  the  moon,  the  stars, 
the  earth,  rejoiced  together. 

Meanwhile,  what  passions  were  busy,  what  plans,  what 
plots  were  devising,  what  efforts  making  by  people  to  cir 
cumvent  and  overreach  each  other ! 

How  much  better  had  they  all  been  honest !  During  this 
last  year  I  made  some  progress.  I  got  into  a  routine  of  pet 
ty  business,  where  I  earned  small  sums.  But  with  all  my 
exertions,  I  could  not  make  enough  to  support  my  family. 
So  by  the  succeeding  autumn,  Alice's  fund,  which  had  been 
paid  over  to  her  in  the  spring,  but  from  which  was  deducted 
the  sum  already  advanced,  was  entirely  exhausted.  It  seem 
ed  as  if  there  was  no  possible  way  of  increasing  my  receipts. 
I  earned  just  about  so  much,  and  fell  about  so  much  behind. 


364  UNDERCURRENTS 

It  was  true,  Alice  had  still  five  hundred  dollars  and  the 
interest,  still  untouched  in  the  savings  bank.  But  to  com 
mence  on  that  deposit  conveyed  the  dreadful  thought,  that 
our  last  hope  was  failing,  and  destitution  was  absolutely 
staring  us  in  the  face.  Notwithstanding  the  severe  por 
traiture  I  have  drawn  of  Mr.  Frink,  it  was  through  that 
singular  personage  that  I  realized  the  larger  portion  of  my 
little  commissions.  Penurious  as  he  was,  he  was  not  so  des 
picably  mean  as  many  with  whom  I  was  brought  in  contact. 
Neither  did  he  ever  desire  me  to  do  any  thing  dishonest. 
Such  and  such  notes  he  would  take  at  such  and  such  rates — 
hard  enough,  to  be  sure ;  if  the  parties  did  not  want  to  close 
with  him,  they  could  let  it  alone,  that  was  all. 

I  had  kept  my  account  open  all  the  time  in  the  Bank  of 
Credit,  with  the  hope  that  I  might  ultimately  get  the  control 
of  such  paper  as  the  bank  would  be  willing  to  discount.  One 
day  Downer  brought  me  a  man  who  had  an  acceptance  of  a 
firm  which  he  said  was  known  there,  and  whose  paper  had 
been  frequently  discounted.  I  hurried  with  it  to  the  presi 
dent  (formerly  the  cashier,  as  I  have  already  mentioned),  and 
asked  him  to  pass  it  for  me.  This  man,  who  was  indebted 
in  the  first  instance  to  my  influence  for  promotion,  was  civil, 
but  barely  so ;  he  said  he  did  not  know  the  names,  indeed 
had  never  seen  them  before,  but  he  would  offer  the  accept 
ance  at  the  board,  which  met  that  day,  at  twelve,  and  if  it 
was  favorably  known  to  any  of  the  directors,  it  would  be 
passed  for  me.  I  left  the  bank,  with  the  pleasant  expecta 
tion  of  making  a  handsome  commission  out  of  the  day's 
work.  I  returned  at  one.  The  president  handed  me  back 
the  paper,  with  the  remark,  that  not  one  of  the  directors 


O  F      W  A  L  L-S  T  R  E  E  T.  365 

(and  it  was  a  full  board)  knew  it.  I  expressed  my  disap 
pointment. 

"  You  know,  Mr.  Parkinson,"  continued  the  official  with 
some  severity,  "  that  the  Bank  of  Credit  never  has,  and,  I 
venture  to  say,  never  will  discount  a  piece  of  paper  not 
known  to  some  one  of  its  directors."  There  was  no  gain 
saying  so  good  a  banking  rule,  and  I  said  so.  I  took  the 
acceptance,  and  came  away.  I  returned  it  to  the  owner, 
and  stated  what  had  occurred.  The  next  day,  however,  he 
brought  me  five  pretty  large  notes  of  the  same  makers,  dis 
counted  at  the  Bank  of  Credit,  and  duly  paid.  I  was  indig 
nant.  I  asked  for  the  possession  of  the  notes  a  few  mo 
ments,  and  stepped  to  the  bank,  and,  without  saying  a  word, 
exhibited  them  to  the  president. 

He  turned  red  with  anger.  Glancing  at  the  indorsements, 
he  said :  "  These  notes  were  offered,  sir,  at  separate  times, 
by  a  firm  worth  a  million  of  dollars ;  offered  doubtless  in  a 
batch  of  tens  of  thousands.  You  don't  suppose  we  would 
stop  to  scrutinize  one  little  note  indorsed  by  such  men,  when 
we  were  satisfied  with  the  respectability  of  the  lot  ?" 

"  No.  I  don't ;  or  at  least  I  should  not,  had  you  not  told 
me  every  note  was  specially  passed  on — that's  all." 

This  was  the  end  of  my  operations  with  the  old  bank, 
where  I  had  done  business  for  so  many,  many  years.  I  was 
foolish  to  give  way  to  any  exhibition  of  feeling ;  but  it  is 
difficult  always  to  repress  it. 

There  were  times  when  I  thought  seriously  of  attempting 
some  other  plan  for  a  livelihood.  Again  I  endeavored  to 
devise  a  way  to  increase  my  earnings,  by  attending  to  some 


3G6  UNDERCURRENTS 

matters  outside  of  my  daily  occupation.  It  was  in  vain.  My 
old  acquaintances  were  fast  disappearing  from  the  business 
world,  while  I  was  fast  becoming  fixed  in  the  miserable  work 
I  had  undertaken.  Oh !  if  I  could  but  gain  enough  for  a 
bare  support !  What  toil,  what  privation,  what  mortification 
would  I  not  endure  to  be  able  just  to  pay  my  way!  The 
privilege  to  work,  and  live  by  my  work,  was  all  I  asked — all. 
These  reflections  did  not  always  afflict  me.  On  the  contrary, 
I  preserved  my  cheerfulness  well,  and  it  was  only  on  occa 
sions  that  I  had  some  despairing  moments.  Even  then  I  felt 
persuaded  that  whatever  happened  it  was  all  right. 

One  morning  before  I  was  up,  I  involuntarily  exclaimed 
aloud :  "  If  I  only  could  find  out  what  the  ALMIGHTY  wants 
of  me,  I  would  try  and  do  it !" 

I  started  at  the  sound  of  my  own  voice,  and,  thus  brought 
to  myself,  smiled  at  my  own  soliloquy. 

One  day  I  had  been  running  about  for  several  hours,  hop 
ing  to  find  a  purchaser  for  a  note  which  had  been  placed  in 
my  hands.  The  owner  was  in  great  distress  for  the  money, 
and  I  could  encounter  no  one  who  would  take  it.  Finally,  I 
•sought  information  of  Downer,  as  I  always  did  when  in  a 
quandary.  He  directed  me  to  a  stock-broker,  named  Sidney, 
who,  he  said,  knew  the  party  well ;  and  who,  he  thought, 
would  buy  the  note.  This  broker  was  a  gay,  rollicking, 
good-hearted  fellow,  who  was  generally  fortunate  in  his 
operations,  and  sometimes  invested  in  business  paper.  So  I 
called  on  him  at  his  office,  and  presented  what  I  had  to  offer. 

"  I  have  half  a  mind  to  take  that,"  he  said. 

"  I  hope  you  will,"  was  my  reply. 


OF      AY  ALL-STREET.  367 

"  I  suppose  you  will  say  two  per  cent.  ?" 

I  was  about  to  acquiesce,  when  at  that  moment  one  came 
in,  and  whispered  in  his  ear.  "  Yes,  yes,  immediately,"  he 
said.  "  On  the  whole,  I  think  I  wont  buy  this  ;  fact  is, 
cannot  stop  now,"  and  off  he  went  in  a  twinkling.  I  felt 
very  sorry  for  the  poor  fellow  who  was  expecting  his  money, 
and  who  manifested  a  keen  disappointment.  I  was  sorry  too 
on  my  own  account. 

"  Do  you  want  me  to  tell  you  what  to  do  ?"  said  Downer, 
to  whom  I  communicated  the  result. 

u  Certainly." 

"  Weli,  Sidney  dines  every  day  at  five,  with  several  of  his 
set,  at  the  '  Shadow,'  in  Broadway.  Go  there  about  half- 
past  six,  and  tell  him  what  distress  the  man  is  in,  and  you 
will  get  the  money." 

I  hesitated  about  going ;  finally  I  concluded  I  would  go, 
as  much  for  the  adventure,  and  for  the  sake  of  the  novelty, 
as  any  thing.  I  waited,  therefore,  till  the  appointed  time, 
and  then  proceeded  to  the  place  of  entertainment,  ycleped 
the  "  Shadow,"  and  asked  one  of  the  waiters  for  Mr.  Sidney, 
stating  I  had  business  with  him.  The  man  conducted  me 
through  several  passages,  where  I  could  hear  sounds  of  bois 
terous  mirth,  long  before  we  reached  the  door  of  the  private 
room.  When  arrived  there,  the  waiter  knocked,  but  no  one 
heard  him,  and  I  checked  a  further  advance,  while  I  listened 
to  the  following,  sung  in  a  fine  deep  voice,  by  one  of  the 
company,  while  all  joined  in  the  chorus: 

"  Wine  cures  the  gout,  boys,  the  colic  and  the  phthisic, 
Whie  cures  the  gout,  boys,  the  colic  and  the  phthisic, 

And  it  is  allowed  by  all, 


368  U  ND  ERCTJ  E  RENTS 

And  it  is  allowed  by  all, 
And  it  is  allowed  by  all, 
To  be  the  best  of  physic." 

At  this  juncture,  the  waiter  opened  the  door,  and  asked 
for  Mr.  Sidney.  That  personage,  thus  appealed  to,  rose, 
brushed  the  ash  from  his  cigar,  tightened  his  pantaloons,  and 
came  to  the  door,  amid  cries  of  "  Stop  him ;  no  running 
away,"  etc.,  mingled  with  voices  shouting : 

"  For  to-night  we'll  merry,  merry  be, 

For  to-night  we'll  merry,  merry  be, 

For  to-night  we'll  merry,  merry  be, 

To-morrow  we'll  get  sober." 

I  hastened  to  explain  my  presence  there,  by  saying  I 
thought  he  did  not  positively  decide  not  to  take  the  note  I 
had  oifered.  That  the  owner  of  it  was  in  great  distress  for 
the  money,  and  I  was  thus  induced  to  intrude  on  him.  I 
concluded  by  saying,  that  the  man  was  now  waiting  in  the 
public  room,  trembling  for  the  success  of  my  mission. 

The  broker's  face  exhibited  at  first  some  chagrin,  but  be 
fore  I  was  through  it  was  serene  again. 

"A  devilish  queer  time,"  he  said,  "to  shave  a  note — a 
queer  place  too ;  but  if,  as  you  say,  the  poor  devil  is  in  ex 
tremis — how  shall  we  calculate  ?  never  mind — you  have  the 
statement  all  ready,  I  see.  Don't  know  as  I  have  cash 
enough  by  me." 

Thereupon  he  thrust  his  hand  into  his  vest  pocket,  and 
drew  out  a  roll  of  bills.  "  Phillips,  I  say,  got  a  hundred  dol 
lars—all  right.  There,  I  perceive,  you  understand  my  weak 
side.  Don't  try  it  again  though ;  please  don't.  Good  even 
ing." 


OF      AVAL  L-S  T  II  E  ET.  369 

I  could  hear  the  merry  voices  joining  in — 

"Come,  landlord,  fill  your  flowing  bowl!" 

as  I  wound  my  way  back  to  the  public  room,  where  I  de 
lighted  my  constituent  with  the  sight  of  the  money.  I 
received  myself,  a  handsome  commission,  and  went  home  all 
the  more  cheerful,  instead  of  the  more  morose,  for  having 
encountered  a  set  of  "jolly  good  fellows." 

To  speak  truthfully,  I  did  not  moralize  on  the  sin  of  ex 
travagance  in  eating  and  drinking,  or  the  wickedness  of 
being  jovial.  I  did  not  even  congratulate  myself  that  these 
men,  who  were  singing  so  merrily,  were  on  the  high  road  to 
perdition,  while  I  perchance  was  happily  bound  in  the  other 
direction.  Nor  did  I  feel  the  slightest  pang  of  jealousy  that 
Sidney  had  his  pocket  full  of  cash,  while  I  was  penniless. 
16* 


370  UNDERCURRENTS 


CHAPTER    XII. 

A     NEW-COMER. 

BUT  I  did  enjoy  returning  to  my  home  that  evening,  and 
being  met  with  affectionate  greetings  and  demonstrations. 
How  different  the  Charles  E.  Parkinson  within  those 
doors,  and  the  Charles  E.  Parkinson  walking  wearily  up  and 
down  the  street,  visiting  Frink  and  his  coadjutors  !  In  my 
house,  GOD  be  praised,  I  forgot  all  the  deformities  of  my 
life — all.  For  there  my  existence  flowed  naturally  and  free. 
It  is  true,  I  knew  I  was  losing  ground,  in  a  pecuniary  sense, 
still  I  could  do  no  more  than  my  best,  and  that  done,  I  was 
content  to  let  GOD  work  out  His  will. 

I  labored  on  incessantly.  From  the  fund  belonging  to 
Charley  and  Anna,  invested  by  the  court,  I  received,  as  their 
guardian,  about  ninety  dollars  a  year.  This  was  something. 
It  served  to  pay  one  quarter's  rent. 

The  following  season  we  had  a  new-comer  in  our  neigh 
borhood.  Among  the  boarders  at  Mr.  Ellis's  (the  name  of 
the  family  next  door),  was  a  young  man,  three  or  four  and 
twenty,  of  a  prepossessing  appearance,  who,  I  learned,  was 
a  law-student  in  the  office  of  a  respectable  counsellor  down 
town.  I  became  interested  in  this  young  man  before  I  was 
aware  of  it.  He  came  and  went  with  great  regularity,  and 
invariably  walked  each  way.  "We  thus  frequently  encoun- 


OF      W  A  L  L-  S  T  REE  T  .  371 

tcred  each  other,  and  often  went  along  together.  His 
name  was  Warren.  He  was  a  native  of  New-Hampshire, 
and  a  graduate,  he  told  me,  of  Dartmouth  College.  After 
we  had  seen  more  of  each  other,  he  gave  me  some  further 
account  of  himself.  His  father  was  a  farmer,  with  a  large 
family,  and  quite  too  poor  to  aid  his  boy  to  attain  his  heart's 
desire — an  education.  Still  he  did  toward  it  what  little  lay 
in  his  power,  so  that  at  last  the  youth  was  imperfectly  fitted 
for  college.  He  succeeded  in  passing  his  examination,  and 
was  admitted.  By  dint  of  teaching  a  district-school  in  the 
winter,  working  out  at  haying  and  harvesting  during  the 
four  weeks  of  his  summer  vacation,  at  a  dollar  a  day,  to 
gether  with  some  trilling  aid  from  his  father,  he  managed  to 
pay  his  way,  and  graduated  one  "of  the  "first  four"  in  his 
class.  Then  he  set  to  work  teaching,  till  he  accumulated 
enough  to  support  him  a  year  in  New  York,  after  which  he 
was  promised  at  least  sufficient  to  pay  for  his  board  and 
lodging.  Mr.  Ellis  was  originally  from  the  same  town,  and 
knew  the  young  man's  family.  It  was  thus  he  came  to  take 
up  his  abode  in  his  house.  This  brief  account,  told  with 
simplicity,  and  not  as  in  any  respect  an  unusual  story, 
greatly  attached  me  to  Robert  Warren.  Intellectually,  he 
was  no  common  person.  I  saw  that  no  ordinary  impedi 
ments  would  ever  retard  him.  He  had  begun  at  the  rough 
end  of  life,  and  was  mastering  a  destiny  for  himself.  And 
now  how  close  and  calculating  he  was,  while  his  nature  was 
generous,  and  his  heart  open!  I  asked  Warren  to  my 
house.  He  did  not  give  himself  much  time  for  visiting,  but 
he  dropped  in  often  on  us,  and,  according  to  my  request, 
without  ceremony.  Alice  liked  him  very  much.  So  did 


372  UNDERCURRENTS 

Matilda — after  a  while.  At  first  she  sneered  a  little  at 
Warren's  appearance;  he  dressed  in  wretched  taste,  and 
was  horribly  countrified  ;  but  his  qualities  of  head  and 
heart  soon  threw  dress,  and  a  slight  provincial  manner,  into 
the  background,  and  Matilda  confessed  she  liked  the  clown 
ish  fellow  amazingly.  Warren  really  was  no  clown.  It 
was  astonishing  how  rapidly  he  improved  in  every  way. 
Matilda  claimed  great  credit  on  this  score,  and,  I  think,  de 
served  it.  For  she  pounced  on  every  peculiarity,  and  dealt 
mercilessly  with  every  little  fault  of  conduct  or  character. 
Warren  took  all  in  good  part,  and  never  neglected  a  fair  hit 
or  a  sensible  criticism.  Before  many  months  entire  confi 
dence  had  sprung  up  between  us  all,  so  that  he  was  familiar 
with  our  whole  history,  while  we  were  equally  so  with  his. 
There  arose  a  very  strong  sympathy  between  this  young 
man  and  myself,  from  the  fact,  perhaps,  of  our  both  having 
to  work  hard,  and  calculate  very  closely  from  day  to  day. 
In  fact,  Warren  was  never  unwelcome  among  us.  He 
would  run  in  during  the  evening,  and  tell  us  about  some 
new  case  which  he  was  examining ;  or  listen  to  an  account 
of  what  I  had  been  doing.  He  would  bring  books  for  the 
girls  to  read,  or  he  would  sit  and  chat  with  them,  or  listen 
to  the  music  when  they  played.  Thus,  while  scarcely  sen 
sible  of  it,  we  had  virtually  added  another  member  to  our 
family,  and  had  greatly  enlarged  our  sources  of  happiness. 


OF      W  ALL-STREET.  373 


CHAPTER    XIII. 

THE  LAST  EFFORT  OF  DOWNER. 

IT  was  a  very  stormy  day  in  the  month  of  November. 
The  rain  drove  in  torrents  from  the  direction  of  the  river 
up  Wall-street,  till  it  beat  against  the  front  of  Trinity,  or 
was  carried  by  the  changing  gusts  of  wind  fiercely  around 
the  corners  of  the  streets.  Those  who  were  obliged  to  be 
out  and  brave  the  fury  of  the  tempest,  dashed  wildly  for 
ward,  now  darting  in  and  out  of  the  banks  and  brokers'  of 
fices,  and  then  rushing  on  to  the  places  they  had  to  visit. 
Umbrella-peddlers  abounded  with  wares  to  suit  customers 
and  the  times.  Groups  of  men  stood  in  the  door-ways, 
ready  to  take  advantage  of  any  cessation  of  the  flood,  while 
occasionally  a  carriage  would  drive  rapidly  along.  As  I 
stood  myself  on  the  steps  of  the  building  where  I  kept  my 
office,  I  saw  Downer  plunging  through  the  wet,  as  careless 
as  if  it  had  been  one  of  the  pleasantest  days  of  the  year. 
He  seemed  to  be  poorly  protected  against  the  weather,  and 
the  water  dripped  from  his  shoulders  as  he  stepped  up  to 
where  I  was  standing. 

"You  are  soaked  through,"  I  said.  "Come  into  my 
office  and  dry  yourself;  I  have  a  good  fire." 

"  Not  I,"  said  Downer  ;  "  I  prefer  to  stay  here.  I  love  a 
storm— GOD  !  how  I  love  a  storm.  It  makes  me  feel  on  an 
equality  with  every  body.  How  it  pelts  a  nabob  and  poor 
devil  just  alike.  Look !  look  quick,  Parkinson !  there's 


374  UNDERCURRENTS 

your  friend  Goulding.  See  how  he  has  to  run  ;  no  umbrella 
— left  his  own  at  his  house,  too  mean  to  buy  another.  See 
what  devilish  cavalier  usage  the  elements  treat  him  to." 
And  Downer  laughed  so  very  loud  that  it  attracted  Gould- 
ing's  notice  in  passing.  In  looking  up,  his  foot  slid  on  the 
slippery  pavement  and  he  fell  flat.  "  Good,  good  !"  con 
tinued  Downer.  "  I  swear  I  never  saw  any  thing  done  so 
well.  A  north-easter  is  no  respecter  of  persons.  That's 
why  I  love  to  be  out  in  one — we  all  fare  the  same.  It 
would  not  do  for  me  to  lay  that  man  on  his  back,  although — 
damn  him ! — he  deserves  it  at  my  hands  ;  but  the  old  nor'- 
easter  has  done  it,  and  it's  all  right." 

There  was  something  wild  and  unnatural  about  Downer's 
manner  that  alarmed  me.  I  took  him  gently  by  the  arm 
and  made  hitn  come  up-stairs  to  my  office.  Then  I  almost 
forced  him  to  lay  off  his  coat  and  attempt  to  dry  himself. 
He  was  shivering  with  the  wet  and  cold,  and  now  fell  into 
a  moody  silence.  After  he  was  more  comfortable.  I  per 
suaded  him  to  get  into  an  omnibus  and  go  home. 

A  few  days  after  he  sent  me  word:  he  was  ill  and  re 
quested  me  to  attend  to  some  business  for  him.  I  did  so. 
A  week  more,  and  I  was  about  calling  to  see  him,  when 
one  morning  early  he  entered  my  office.  It  was  very  cold, 
and  he  wore  a  heavy  surtout,  and  over  it  an  immense  cloak, 
which  nearly  concealed  his  features,  so  that  on  entering  I 
did  not  recognize  him.  When  I  did  so,  the  change  in  his 
countenance  frightened  me.  His  usual  gaunt  face  was  now 
so  shrunk  and  emaciated  that  it  appeared  as  if  nothing 
remained  but  the  skin  drawn  tightly  over  the  bones  of  his 
cheeks.  He  came  in  rapidly  and  dropped  into  a  chair. 


OF      WALL-STREET.  375 

"  Have  you  got  fifty  dollars  ?" 

"  I  am  sorry  to  say  I  have  no  such  sum." 

"  Then  you  must  get  it  for  me,"  he  exclaimed,  and  he 
handed  me  a  paper,  which  I  perceived  was  a  life  insur 
ance  policy.  "The  quarterly  payment  is  due  to-day. 
The  premium  must  be  paid,  Parkinson,  and  you  must 
get  this  money  for  me.  I  can't  run  a  step  further.  Do 
you  understand  ?  That  policy  is  worth  to-day  to  my 
family  at  least  fourteen  thousand  dollars  (it  was  origi 
nally  for  ten  thousand).  Now,  go,  go  quick  and  bring  the 
money." 

A  man  in  earnest,  who  must  carry  a  certain  point  or  per 
ish,  will  carry  it.  He  exhales  a  certain  Odic  force ;  he  is' 
surrounded  with  a  magnetic  vis,  which  compels  others  to 
do  his  bidding.  Certain  men  have  this  on  occasions ;  cer 
tain  others  always  possess  it,  and  these  last  are  the  really 
great  ones  of  the  earth. 

At  this  moment  Downer  was  irresistible.  I  took  up  my 
hat  and  started  mechanically  to  do  what  he  demanded, 
without  thinking  \dBbre  or  for  what  I  was  going.  When 
I  recovered  a  little,  I  tried  to  decide  where  I  should  go  to 
borrow  fifty  dollars.  I  stood  some  time,  not  being  able  to 
think  of  any  body  to  apply  to.  At  length  I  proceeded  to 
the  office  of  Mr.  Case.  He  had  done  a  great  deal  of  busi 
ness  for  my  firm  and  me,  which  had  proved  lucrative.  To 
be  sure,  I  knew  him  perhaps  still  less,  on  account  of  my  in 
timacy  with  Mr.  Norwood,  but  I  resolved  to  try  him.  He 
received  me  after  some  delay.  I  told  him  an  unexpected 
occurrence  presented  itself,  when  I  was  compelled  immedi 
ately  to  have  fifty  dollars  more  than  I  could  command,  and 


376  UNDERCURRENTS 

I  wished  him  to  lend  it  to  me  for  a  few  days.     He  com 
plied,  though  not  without  hesitation. 

I  carried  the  money  joyfully  to  Downer.  He  showed  no 
particular  sign  of  gratification.  "  I  knew,  old  friend,  you 
would  get  it,"  he  said.  "  Take  this  policy  and  step  to  the 
office ;  make  the  payment ;  have  it  properly  indorsed,  and 
get  me  a  duplicate  receipt." 

It  was  but  a  few  minutes  before  this  was  done. 

"  Now  let  me  have  your  arm  till  I  can  get  into  an  omni 
bus.  I  must  hurry  home.  My  wife  don't  know  I  am  out 
of  the  house.  I  sent  her  away  on  an  errand.  The  doctor 
forbid  my  leaving  my  bed." 

The  omnibus  stopped  and  I  helped  Downer  in.  It  was 
then  he  seized  my  hand  and  pressed  it  tight.  "  Good-by  !" 
He  looked  me  cheerfully  in  the  face.  His  countenance  had 
changed  wonderfully.  It  wore  an  expression  of  rest  and 
repose.  "  Good-by  !" 

It  was  all  he  uttered.  I  never  saw  him  again  alive.  He 
died  the  next  day. 

I  attended  Sol  Downer's  funeral.  I  jlzed  on  his  features 
as  he  lay  in  his  coffin,  and  the  tears  flowed  freely  as  I  took 
a  last  leave  of  this  unfortunate  man.  I  never  knew  a  hus 
band  or  a  father  so  much  beloved  as  he.  The  sorrow  of  his 
family  was  indescribable.  For  myself,  I  felt  desolate  the 
next  day  when  I  went  into  the  street ;  and  when  a  vulgar, 
low-lived  man  of  money  remarked  to  me  in  a  coarse  tone, 
"  So  Old  Sol  has  kicked  the  bucket,"  I  could  have  throttled 
him,  for  speaking  thus  of  one  whose  nature  he  was  incapable 
of  understanding,  and  whose  soul  was  as  noble  as  the  soul 
of  the  other  was  base  and  mean. 


OF      WALL- STREET.  377 


CHAPTER     XIV. 

MRS.  FREDERICK  AUGUSTUS  HAVENS. 

RETURNING  home  one  day,  Alice  showed  me  an  envelope 
containing  wedding-cards.  The  parties  were  Miss  Henri 
etta  Stevenson  and  Mr.  Frederick  Augustus  Havens.  The 
latter  was  now  an  "exquisite"  of  the  first  water.  His 
father  having  died,  he  came  in  possession  of  a  few  thou 
sand  dollars,  which  was  nearly  spent  when  he  succeeded  in 
his  suit  with  the  heiress.  This  young  person  I  introduced 
to  the  reader  in  the  early  part  of  my  history.  I  had  not 
altogether  lost  sight  of  her.  The  influences  of  wealth- 
she  enjoyed  about  twelve  thousand  a  year — were  gradually 
having  their  customary  effect,  and  she  was  becoming  by 
degrees  more  worldly  and  selfish.  Her  marriage  with 
Havens  surprised  me.  However,  Miss  Stevenson  was  now 
at  least  twenty-five.  She  had  refused  innumerable  offers, 
and  perhaps  began  to  perceive  that  it  was  possible  to  de 
cline  once  too  often. 

This  incident  gave  rise  to  considerable  conversation.  Ma 
tilda  sat  unusually  silent.  At  last  Alice  appealed  to  her  on 
some  point. 

"  Don't  speak  to  me,"  was  the  petulant  reply ;  "  I  have 
nothing  to  say  about  it." 

"  Why,  Matilda,  what  is  the  matter  ?"  I  asked. 

"  Nothing." 


378  UNDERCURRENTS 

"  Oh !  but  it  is  something,"  cried  Alice.  "  Tell  me 
what." 

"  Just  nothing  at  all,  only  I  hate  that  girl." 

"  Hate  her !    why  ?" 

"  For  robbing  me  of  my  own." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?"  re-echoed  Alice. 

"  I  tell  you  I  mean  nothing  but  what  I  have  said.  Can't 
you  understand  English  ?" 

"  Yes,  but  there  is  something  connected  with  it  which 
we  don't  understand,"  replied  Alice,  "and  you  don't  choose 
to  enlighten  us." 

"  Well,  in  a  word,  Uncle  Walden  disinherited  pa,  and 
left  all  his  property  to  this  girl's  father,  who  was  about  his 
sixtieth  cousin.  I  have  hated  her  all  my  life,  and  I  al 
ways  shah1  hate  her." 

"  My  dear  Matilda,  why  have  you  never  told  me  this  ? 
How  I  should  have  liked  to  bring  you  two  together." 

"  Bring  us  together,"  returned  Matilda.  "  I  suppose  you 
take  it  as  a  matter  of  course  that  I  should  be  only  too 
happy  to  humiliate  myself  before  her :  only  you  happen  to 
be  very  much  mistaken,"  and  her  eyes  flashed  with  anger. 

"Now,  don't  be  vexed,  and  you  shall  have  everything 
your  own  way,"  said  Alice  good-naturedly.  "You  know  I 
didn't  mean  to  annoy  you." 

"  I  know  you  didn't ;  but  please  never  mention  that 
person's  name  to  me  again.  Mother  once,  when  I  was 
very  young,  wrote  to  the  girl,  and  got  no  answer.  Poor 
mother !" 

Matilda  rose  and  went  to  the  piano  and  began  playing  a 
lively  air.  I  knew  she  was  endeavoring  to  subdue  her  emo- 


OF      WALL-STREET.  379 

tion.  Suddenly  I  recollected  the  little  girl  I  saw  on  the 
pavement  when  handing  Miss  Stevenson  to  her  carriage. 
I  turned  and  looked  at  Matilda.  The  features  were  the 
same.  "It  is  she,"  I  said  to  myself;  "not  a  doubt  of  it!" 

Two  or  three  weeks  after  Downer's  death,  his  widow 
sent  to  me  to  request  I  would  call  at  her  house.  I  had  pre 
viously  offered  my  services  to  do  any  thing  she  might  re 
quire,  and  she  promised  to  avail  herself  of  them  if  neces 
sary.  I  went  immediately  to  her.  She  had  regained  a  cer 
tain  degree  of  composure,  but  it  was  evident  she  had  re 
ceived  an  irreparable  shock  in  the  loss  of  her  best  friend. 

"  I  have  a  command  to  carry  out  and  a  letter  to  deliver," 
she  said,  after  the  greeting  was  over.  "  The  company  has 
already  paid  me  the  amount  of  my  husband's  life  insurance. 
He  has  left  minute  directions  how  to  invest  it,  so  that  I 
need  have  no  care  nor  anxiety.  A  small  sum  he  directed 
me  to  lose  no  time  in  giving  to  you  in  token  of  his  friend 
ship  and  affection." 

Mrs.  Downer  here  handed  me  a  bank-note'  for  one  thou 
sand  dollars. 

I  was  at  first  so  deeply  affected  I  could  not  speak.  "  It 
was  like  him,  madam,  like  him  and  like  nobody  else,"  at 
length  I  cried.  "  What  can  I  say  ?  my  heart  is  full.  I 
must  not  take  this.  I  am  made  happy  by  his  remembrance 
of  me.  It  is  all  I  want,  all  I  can  accept." 

I  forced  the  money  into  her  hand,  and  walked  up  and 
down  the  room  under  the  pressure  of  the  strongest  excite 
ment. 

When  Mrs.  Downer  perceived  I  was  firm  in  my  resolu- 


380  TJNDEKCU  ERECTS 

tion  not  to  take  this  last  gift  of  my  friend,  she  forbore  to 
press  me  farther,  but  at  my  request,  proceeded  to  tell  me 
what  her  plans  were.  She  would  purchase  a  small  place ; 
it  had  previously  been  selected  by  her  husband,  near  New 
York,  which  would  be  a  home  for  the  children.  It  was 
near  enough  for  her  son  to  come  in  and  out  daily,  while  he 
attended  to  his  duties  in  the  city.  He  had  lately  secured  a 
situation  in  an  excellent  mercantile  house.  Her  husband's 
affairs  required  really  no  attention.  He  owed  literally  noth 
ing,  and  he  left  no  estate  to  be  settled.  She  had  only  to 
invest  according  to  his  directions  the  fourteen  or  fifteen 
thousand  dollars  now  paid  to  her,  and  nothing  else  re 
mained  to  look  after ;  so  careful  and  so  provident  had  been 
this  considerate  husband  and  father. 

I  went  directly  from  Mrs.  Downer's  to  my  own  house, 
and  to  my  room.  I  opened  the  letter.  It  was  as  follows  : 

"  DEAR  FRIEND  :  I  am  going  first.  These  last  few  days, 
at  home  with  my  wife  and  children,  without  any  care  or 
anxiety,  waiting  to  die,  have  been  the  happiest  of  my  life. 
It  is  a  great  thing  to  be  able  to  rest.  Well,  we  shall  not 
meet  any  more  in  the  street,  shall  we  ?  You  will  miss  me, 
I  know.  I  fear  your  life  will  be  hard  enough ;  but  you 
don't  need  any  advice.  I  want  to  help  you,  though,  if  I 
can.  There  are  three  or  four  men  for  whom  I  did  a  great 
deal  of  hard  work  for  small  yet  sure  pay,  who  will,  I  think, 
employ  you.  I  mean  Allison,  Forbes,  Baker  and  Yard. 
You  know  who  they  are  and  their  places.  It  is  better  to 
work  for  them  than  let  your  folks  starve.  Call  on  them  all, 
and  say  you  are  ready  to  take  my  place  as  their  broker. 


OF     WALL-STREET.  381 

Say  how  you  came  to  call.  And  now  one  word  more. 
Never  believe  I  have  been  a  dishonest  man.  Never  mind 
what  you  hear  people  say  ;  don't  believe  that.  I  have  done 
things  which  seemed  unscrupulous,  not  compatible  with  red- 
tape  morality,  but  never  what  would  wrong  any  body.  I 
have  borne  much.  I  need  not  tell  you ;  you  know  enough 
about  it.  Good-by.  s.  D. 

"P.  S.  My  wife  will  hand  you  the  fifty  dollars." 

Not  a  word  about  the  thousand  dollars.  He  had  too 
much  delicacy  to  allude  to  it. 

And  here  I  take  leave  of  one  who  lived  and  toiled  in  the 
"  street,"  enjoying  there  the  sympathy  of  no  human  being, 
except  myself;  who  gained  a  reputation  for  dishonesty, 
while  incapable  of  wronging  any  body ;  whose  life  was  one 
bitter  struggle — so  bitter  that  death  was  welcome.  By  his 
foresight  in  securing  an  insurance,  he  was  able,  dying,  to 
provide  for  those  he  loved.  Farewell,  my  friend.  In  re 
calling  these  scenes,  I  have  to  part  with  you  afresh.  Fare 
well  ! 


382  UNDEKCUK  RENTS 


CHAPTER    XV. 

HEART-BROKEN. 

ALLISON,  Forbes,  Baker  and  Yard,  the  four  individuals 
to  whom  1  was  referred  as  just  mentioned,  belonged  to  a 
nondescript  class,  who  are  possessed  of  considerable  cash 
in  hand,  and  who  are  constantly  on  the  watch  for  an  oppor 
tunity  to  double  their  money.  Such  men  rarely  buy  notes ; 
they  can't  make  enough  by  the  operation.  But  if  a  gentle 
man  is  hard  up  and  wants  to  pledge  his  silver  or  his  wife's 
jewels,  and  is  sensitive  about  its  being  known,  these  people 
will  accommodate  him,  through  a  third  party,  with  a  rea- 
sonible  advance  at  enormous  rates ;  or  they  sometimes 
find  a  piece  of  property  going  at  auction  by  accident  at 
half-price,  and  they  step  in  and  buy.  Occasionally  they  bid 
off  a  lot  of  goods  at  the  lower  end  of  Wall-street,  and 
clear  fifty  per  cent,  without  moving  them.  They  will  make 
advances  on  government  contracts  at  the  rate  of  cent,  per 
cent.  In  short,  they  are  ready  to  turn  their  honest  penny 
in  any  transaction  which  will  pay.  Such  men  generally 
have  a  kind  of  satellite  revolving  around  them,  always  on 
the  hunt  for  chances,  who  is  enabled  to  earn  a  small  pit 
tance  as  a  reward  for  his  persevering  industry. 

Reader,  I  was  now  so  hard  pushed  that  I  was  thankful 
for  an  introduction  to  these  four  men.  I  lost  no  time  in 
calling  on  each.  I  was  received  by  all  of  them  pretty 


OF      WALL-STREET.  383 

much  in  the  same  manner.  They  had  no  idea  I  was  half 
as  smart  as  Old  Sol;  still,  I  might  go  ahead  and  see  what 
f  could  do.  I  was  treated  by  these  people,  I  don't  say  un 
kindly,  but  with  coarse  indifference,  precisely  as  if  I  be 
longed  to  them.  I  was  ordered  here,  sent  there ;  told  to  do 
this,  and  to  be  careful  not  to  do  that.  And  what  meagre 
compensation !  sometimes  a  few  shillings,  sometimes  one, 
two  or  three  dollars.  I  soon  found  I  must  give  up  my 
office.  I  could  not  afford  the  respectability  of  having  one 
all  to  myself.  So  I  engaged  what  is  termed  "  desk-room"  in 
a  pretty  large  basement-office,  already  occupied  by  three 
other  persons.  For  this  I  paid  at  the  rate  of  one  hundred 
dollars  a  year.  There  was  this  advantage,  that  I  did  not 
have  to  mount  any  stairs ;  for  I  began  to  feel  the  exercise 
severely.  Besides,  in  what  I  was  now  working  at,  it  was 
important  I  should  be  as  accessible  as  possible.  So  I  moved 
my  desk  and  two  of  ray  chairs  to  the  new  place,  and  sent 
the  rest  of  the  furniture,  including  the  carpet,  to  auction. 
I  felt  rather  badly  when  I  thought  what  pains  Alice  had 
taken  to  arrange  it,  but,  after  all,  what  did  it  matter  ?  The 
proceeds,  small  as  they  were,  proved  very  acceptable.  I 
continued  to  make  something  from  time  to  time  through 
Mr.  Frink  and  one  or  two  other  usurers,  but  it  seemed  as  if 
they  grew  daily  more  and  more  griping.  However,  I  kept 
manfully  at  work.  I  would  not  permit  myself  to  be  much 
disturbed  by  the  vexations  to  which  I  was  constantly  sub 
jected  during  the  day,  and  at  night  I  came  back  to  the 
happy  world  of  home,  grateful  that  it  still  remained  to  me. 

I  come  now  to  the  most  important  occurrence  of  my  life. 


384  UNDERCURRENTS 

I  have  taken  some  pains  to  make  the  reader  understand 
ho\v  of  late  I  had  been  fortified  by  an  extraordinary  self-re 
liance,  coupled  with  a  sense  of  the  power  of  the  human  spirit 
to  enable  one  to  rise  superior  to  misfortune.  In  this  way  I 
came  to  feel  that  I  was  more  than  a  match  for  whatever 
could  happen.  I  am  now  going  to  narrate  how  I  was  mis 
taken.  There  was  a  man  in  the  street  by  the  name  of  Hor 
ace  P.  Deviue,  who  was  a  sort  of  general  broker,  but  with 
whom  I  had  no  more  than  a  bowing  acquaintance.  Downer 
used  to  dislike  him,  and  often  cautioned  me  to  have  nothing 
to  do  with  him.  The  warning  appeared  unnecessary,  for  we 
never  met  in  any  business  transaction.  For  several  weeks, 
however,  Devine  had  managed  to  put  himself  in  my  way, 
and  by  degrees  we  entered  into  conversation.  His  address 
was  pleasing,  and  his  air  ingenuous.  He  spoke  of  the  diffi 
culties  of  getting  on  without  capital,  stated  with  an  air  of 
candor  that  he  was  not  worth  a  cent  in  the  world,  and  tha.t 
sometimes  he  was  perplexed  to  know  what  to  do  for  five 
dollars.  I  began  to  think  Downer  had  conceived  an  antipathy 
to  this  man,  and  for  once,  that  his  usual  good  sense  had 
yielded  to  his  prejudices.  By  degrees  my  acquaintance  with 
Devine  became  more  intimate.  He  told  me  he  should  have 
left  New  York  long  since  and  gone  to  the  West,  where  ac 
tive  industry  was  more  available,  but  he  had  a  mother  and 
two  sisters  dependent  on  him,  which  tied  him  down  here. 
On  one  occasion  Devine  came  in  and  asked  me  if  I  had  any 
use  for  fifty  dollars  until  the  next  day,  as  he  happened  to 
have  that  amount  over  for  the  twenty-four  hours.  I  replied 
I  had  no  use  for  the  money,  but  thanked  him  for  his  kind 
ness  in  offering  it.  It  seemed  to  me  very  considerate.  De- 


OF      WALL-STREET.  385 

vine  by  degrees  ingratiated  himself  in  my  favor.  He  would 
consult  me  confidentially  about  his  private  affairs ;  was  a 
most  respectful  listener  whenever  I  gave  my  opinions,  and 
treated  me  with  a  deference  which  was  both  agreeable  and 
flattering.  He  never  asked  any  favor  at  my  hands,  but,  on 
the  contrary,  frequently  undertook  to  do  me  some  trifling 
service,  which  I  received  as  a  mark  of  respect  to  my  age, 
and  perhaps  as  some  return  for  the  advice  I  gave  him. 

One  day  a  gentleman,  for  whom  I  had  already  done  some 
business,  brought  me  a  note  for  six  hundred  and  fifty  dollars. 
It  was  just  before  three  o'clock.  The  owner  wanted  one 
hundred  dollars  at  once,  but  was  in  no  haste  for  the  balance, 
and  was  willing  I  should  take  three  or  four  days  if  I  could 
sell  the  note  to  any  better  advantage.  As  it  was  a  respect 
able  piece  of  paper,  I  felt  anxious  to  secure  it,  although  I 
had  but  a  few  minutes  to  raise  what  was  wanted.  ]STow, 
Devine  was  in  the  room  when  the  man  came  in  with  the 
note,  and  although  he  rose  at  once  to  leave,  he  heard  the  re 
quest  made  for  the  hundred  dollars.  When  I  came  out  on 
the  sidewalk  with  the  note  in  my  hand,  Devine  was  standing 
by  the  door. 

"  If  you  have  no  place  hi  particular,"  he  said,  "  where  you 
expect  to  get  the  money,  I  feel  sure  I  can  find  a  purchaser 
who  will  take  the  note  in  a  day  or  two,  and  who  will,  mean 
while,  advance  what  is  wanted  upon  it." 

"  Very  well,"  I  replied  ;  "  if  you  can  bring  me  a  hundred 
dollars  immediately,  and  are  certain  that  you  can  sell  the 
note  well,  you  can  .take  it,  and  I  will  divide  the  commission 
with  you." 

"  My  dear  sir,"  cried  Devine,  "  I  hope  you  don't  think  I 
17 


386  UNDEKCUK  RENTS 

made  this  offer  for  the  sake  of  securing  a  part  of  your  com 
mission,  which,  permit  me  to  say,  I  shall  not  touch.  I  hap 
pen  to  know  where  the  money  can  be  had,  and  I  thought  I 
could  save  you  from  running  after  it." 

This  was  very  kind.  I  handed  the  paper  to  Devine,  who 
promised  to  be  back  in  five  minutes  with  the  money.  I 
think  he  returned  in  three,  and,  quite  breathless,  placed  a 
hundred-dollar  bill  in  my  hand.  This  I  handed  to  my  con 
stituent,  with  the  remark  that  the  note  would  be  speedily 
discounted,  and  he  left  much  pleased  with  my  promptness. 

The  following  day,  and  the  next,  and  the  next,  I  saw 
Devine  as  usual.  He  spoke  of  the  note,  and  said  it  would 
be  done  within  the  promised  time. 

On  the  fourth  day  Devine  did  not  appear,  but  my  constit 
uent  did,  with  the  expectation  of  getting  his  money.  I 
went  immediately  to  the  place  where  Devine  had  a  desk,  and 
saw  a  paper  pinned  upon  it,  on  which  was  written  :  "  Will 
be  back  in  half  an  hour."  Persons  in  the  room,  of  whom  I 
inquired  how  long  Devine  had  been  out,  were  unable  to  give 
me  any  information.  After  waiting  without  success  the  half 
hour  indicated,  I  hurried  to  my  office,  hoping  to  find  him 
there.  I  was  destined  to  be  disappointed,  and  was  obliged 
to  make  the  only  excuse  I  could  to  the  owner,  which  was, 
that  I  was  unable  to  see  the  person  that  day  from  whom  I 
was  to  receive  the  money.  Of  course,  he  was  disappointed,, 
but  he  left  with  the  assurance  that  I  would  have  every  thing 
all  right  for  him  the  next  day. 

I  hastened  back  to  find  Devine,  but  he  had  not  returned. 
According  to  the  piece  of  paper,  he  was  still  coming  "in  half 
an  hour !"  I  waited  till  it  was  nearly  time  to  close  the  office, 


OF      WALL-STKEET.  387 

but  he  did  not  arrive.  I  inquired  of  the  people  there  where 
Devine  lived.  They  could  not  tell  me.  I  consulted  a  direc 
tory.  It  contained  only  his  place  of  business — no  residence. 

I  started  home  with  very  uneasy  sensations.  Yet,  when 
I  reflected  a  moment,  my  fears  would  seem  groundless. 
After  all,  was  it  any  thing  extraordinary  that  a  person,  and 
that  person  a  broker,  should  leave  his  office,  expecting  to 
return,  and  be  detained  beyond  his  time  ?  I  endeavored  to 
quiet  my  apprehensions,  but  so  much  anxiety  did  I  feel  that, 
contrary  to  my  habit,  I  carried  it  home  with  me  that  even 
ing.  The  girls  perceived  it,  and  tried  to  make  me  tell  what 
was  the  matter. 

The  next  morning  I  was  early  at  my  office.  I  was  scarcely 
seated  at  my  desk  before  Devine  entered. 

"  You  were  at  my  place  yesterday,"  he  said.  "  I'm  sorry 
I  was  out.  I  was  subpoenaed  as  a  witness.  They  said  they 
wouldn't  detain  me  ten  minutes,  and  kept  me  all  day.  What 
makes  it  worse,  I've  just  been  round  to  see  the  man  who  is 
to  discount  that  note,  and  find  that  he  went  to  Philadelphia 
yesterday,  and  will  not  be  back  till  to-morrow  afternoon.  I 
fear  this  will  disappoint  you  sadly,  but  I  declare  I  don't 
know  what  can  be  done." 

I  felt  so  much  relieved  by  the  early  visit  of  Devine  and  his 
prompt  explanation,  that  I  spoke  of  the  delay  as  of  little  con 
sequence,  but  requested  him,  as  the  next  day  was  Saturday, 
to  be  sure  and  see  punctually  to  the  matter  Monday  morn 
ing,  so  that  it  could  be  positively  closed  on  that  day.  He 
promised  very  faithfully,  and  took  his  leave.  I  hastened  to 
anticipate  the  visit  of  my  man  by  calling  on  him.  He  re 
ceived  my  explanation  with  rather  a  bad  grace,  but  as  there 


388  UNDERCURRENTS 

was  no  help  for  the  delay,  as  he  himself  said,  he  could  but 
wait  till  Monday. 

Monday  came.  Devine  came,  but  his  man  had  been  de 
tained  over  Sunday  in  Philadelphia.  He  was  expected  back, 
however,  at  two  o'clock.  Of  course,  I  had  to  put  off  my 
constituent  again.  He  was  very  much  dissatisfied,  and  it 
was  very  clear  that  he  suspected  me  of  dishonest  practice. 
The  affair  now  began  to  be  threatening.  The  "  party"  could 
not  stay  in  Philadelphia  forever,  and  so  about  Wednesday, 
according  to  Devine,  he  returned.  But  having  had  some 
very  large  transactions  in  his  absence,  he  had  drawn  his  bank 
account  down  so  low  that  he  would  not  be  able  to  discount 
the  note  for  two  or  three  days.  By  this  time  I  was  fully 
roused  to  the  danger  of  my  position.  I  began  to  see  just 
what  kind  of  man  this  Devine  was.  I  did  not  wish  to  alarm 
him,  however,  by  my  suspicions.  Still  I  begged  him  to  tell  me 
the  exact  truth,  and  if  he  had  used  the  note,  to  say  so.  His 
reply  was  simply  a  repetition  on  his  honor  that  he  had  told 
me  the  truth,  and  that  the  money  would  certainly  be  forth 
coming.  Meantime,  my  man  was  enraged.  He  insisted  on 
knowing  to  whom  I  had  given  the  note,  and  as  Devine  had 
already  evaded  the  question  on  my  putting  it  to  him,  there 
was  nothing  left  for  me  but  to  tell  the  owner  the  precise  facts. 

At  the  mention  of  Devine's  name,  his  manner,  which  had 
been  before  simply  angry  and  splenetic,  became  insulting  in 
the  extreme.  "I  know  all  I  want  to  know,"  he  said,  and 
left  me.  He  returned  soon  with  a  witness,  and  tendered 
me  the  hundred  dollars  advanced  to  him,  and  demanded  his 
note.  Of  course,  I  did  not  have  it  to  give  him.  My  distress 
of  mind  was  indescribable.  I  did  not  know  what  to  do.  I 


OF      WALL-STREET.  389 

went  again  to  see  Devine,  but  he  had  left,  and  after  waiting 
a  long  time,  I  came  away. 

The  next  morning,  as  I  was  about  entering  my  office,  I 
was  addressed  by  a  person  outside,  who  appeared  to  be 
waiting  for  me.  On  ascertaining  I  was  Mr.  Parkinson,  he 
told  me  he  was  under  the  necessity  of  taking  me  into  custody, 

I  asked  him  on  what  charge. 

He  answered :  "  On  a  charge  of  conspiring  with  a  man 
named  Devine  to  swindle  a  party  out  of  five  hundred  and 
fifty  dollars." 

I  could  not  help  assuring  the  officer  of  my  innocence, 
although  I  knew  it  was  nothing  to  him. 

The  only  reply  he  made  was :  "  Better  settle  it,  I  guess. 
It  is  no  use  my  finding  Devine,  he's  a  slippery  fellow,  there 
is  nothing  to  be  made  out  of  him;  but  if  you  say  it  will  be 
settled,  I  tell  you  I  will  be  accommodating." 

"But  how  can  a  criminal  charge  be  settled?"  Tasked; 
"  you  have  no  right  to  let  me  go,  have  you,  even  if  I  should 
make  all  right,  as  you  call  it  ?" 

"  I  don't  say  I  have,  but,  don't  you  see,  if  you  fix  it  straight 
with  the  man  who  has  entered  the  charge,  he'll  tell  the  judge 
it  was  all  a  mistake,  and  wont  appear  against  you?  I  tell 
you  it's  so ;  it's  done  'most  every  day." 

During  this  brief  conversation,  I  was  deliberating  what 
was  best  to  do.  I  had  no  time  to  feel  unhappy  about  it.  I 
told  the  officer  I  wished  to  see  the  owner  of  the  note.  "  That 
you  can  do  very  easy,"  replied  he,  "for  he  is  at  his  lawyer's, 
next  door,  waiting  to  hear  from  you.  We  will  go  in  there, 
if  you  like." 

I  did  not  care  to  go  in,  but  said  I  preferred  to  speak  with 


390  UNDERCURRENTS 

him  outside.  We  went  accordingly  to  the  place,  and  he  was 
called  out. 

"If  I  manage  to  raise  the  money  which  is  due  you,"  I  said, 
"is  it  understood  that  you  will  not  appear  against  me?" 

"  Mr,  Parkinson,"  replied  the  other,  "  I  have  no  wish  to 
do  you  an  injury.  I  was  pained  to  have  to  take  this  course 
to  protect  myself.  If  you  can  manage  to  return  me  the  note, 
or  to  pay  me  the  money,  I  shall  not  hesitate  to  say  to  the 
judge,  that  there  has  been  a  misapprehension  on  my  part, 
and  shall  decline  to  appear  against  you." 

This  was  enough.  I  asked  the  officer  if  he  would  accom 
pany  me  to  my  house.  He  assented,  and  we  rode  up  to 
gether. 

Arriving  there,  we  both  went  in.  I  left  the  officer  in  the 
parlor,  and  proceeded  in  search  of  Alice.  I  found  her  in  her 
room. 

"  Why,  papa,"  she  said,  joyfully,  "  how  early  you've  come 
home  to-day." 

"Alice!" 

"What,  papa?" 

"  I  want  you  to  go  to  the  savings  bank,  and  draw  out  the 
money  you  have  there." 

There  was  a  look  of  mingled  anxiety  and  terror,  as  her 
eye  inquiringly  met  mine,  while  she  uttered  faintly :  "  All, 
papa  ?" 

"All." 

She  went  at  once  to  her  drawer,  for  the  bank  book.  Rap 
idly  she  prepared  herself  to  go  out.  After  the  door  was 
half  open,  she  turned  and  said  :  "  We  could  save  six  months' 
interest,  papa,  by  waiting  two  days." 


OF      WALL- STREET.  391 

"  We  cannot  wait ;  you  must  be  sure  to  bring  the  money 
immediately  to  my  office."  Another  moment  and  she  had 
hurried  away. 

On  the  staircase  I  encountered  Matilda.  "  Who  is  that 
knavish-looking  fellow  in  the  parlor  ?"  she  said. 

"A  man  that  came  up  with  me." 

"  Something  has  happened,  I  know :  I  am  sorry,"  and 
she  passed  on. 

It  was  two  hours  before  Alice  reached  Wall-street,  but 
she  brought  the  money.  She  had  some  difficulty  in  obtain 
ing  it  at  first,  as  the  rules  required  her  to  leave  the  book  to 
be  written  up.;  but  she  stated  her  case  so  strongly,  that  she 
succeeded  in  having  this  done  at  once.  From  this  sum  I 
immediately  paid  the  balance  of  the  note,  and,  accompanied 
by  the  owner,  we  proceeded  to  the  Tombs.  There  the 
judge  was  assured  by  the  merchant  that  the  charge  had 
been  made  under  a  mistaken  view  of  the  circumstances,  and 
that  he  proposed  to  withdraw  it.  He  submitted  to  a. slight 
reprimand  for  his  precipitancy,  and  I  was  thereupon  set  at 
liberty.  I  had  previously  paid  ten  dollars  to  my  companion 
of  the  day,  for  his  kindness  in  riding  up  town  and  back 
with  me. 

Although  the  business-day  was  nearly  over,  I  returned 
mechanically  to  my  desk.  There  were  two  or  three  letters 
lying  on  it  from  parties  I  was  at  work  for.  I  did  not  heed 
them.  I  sat  for  over  an  hour,  anxious  about  nothing,  think 
ing  of  nothing,  dumbfounded,  paralyzed.  At  last,  mechan 
ically  I  arose,  shut  up  my  desk,  and  walked  out.  I  paused 
on  the  corner  of  Wall  and  William,  on  the  very  spot  where 
several  years  before  I  met  the  President  of  the  Bank  of 


392  UNDERCURRENTS 

Credit,  and  talked  with  him  about  the  failure  of  Wise  and 
Company.  Vacantly  I  gazed  up  and  down  the  street.  A 
rich  broker  was  in  the  act  of  getting  into  his  carriage,  in 
which  his  wife  was  waiting  to  drive  him  home.  I  thought 
how  Florence,  in  the  days  of  my  prosperity,  used  sometimes 
to  come  for  me. 

The  people  were  fast  leaving  the  street,  while  I  stood  idly 
looking  on.  My  attention  was  at  that  moment  excited  by 
hearing  my  name  pronounced,  in  a  conversation  between 
two  or  three  gentlemen,  who  stood  on  the  steps  near  where 
I  was.  Suspicious  and  sensitive,  it  seemed  as  if  my  hearing 
was  doubly  acute. 

"  What  a  damned  old  scoundrel  he's  got  to  be  !"  said 
one. 

"  That's  a  fact,"  said  another. 

"  Dear  me,  dear  me,  I  can't  think  it  possible,"  added  a 
third  ;  "  he  was  always  considered  such  an  honorable  man. 

"  I  can't  help  that,"  said  the  first  voice.  "  Loomis  says 
he's  been  in  the  Tombs  all  the  morning — he  and  Devine,  for 
swindling ;  and  when  he  found  he  had  to  be  put  through, 
the  old  knave  planked  down  the  cash  in  less  than  no  time." 

Two  of  the  voices  were  familiar  to  me.  I  thought  espe 
cially  that  I  recognized  that  of  the  gentleman  who  ventured 
a  word  in  my  favor,  but  I  had  no  desire  to  satisfy  myself. 
I  did  not  turn  round,  but  started  swiftly  for  my  house. 

I  saw  nothing,  heard  nothing,  noticed  nothing.  Arriving 
at  home,  I  brushed  past  Alice,  ran  up-stairs  to  my  chamber, 
locked  and  bolted  the  door,  threw  myself  on  the  bed,  and 
cried — cried  piteonsly  as  children  cry. 


OF      WALL- STREET.  393 


CHAPTER   XVI. 

THE      SOLUTION. 

THE  next  day  was  Sunday.  I  rose,  dressed  myself  me 
chanically,  and  went  down  to  breakfast.  I  was  suffering 
from  no  sharp  sensations.  A  dull,  heavy,  muffled  pang,  at 
regular  intervals,  took  the  place  of  the  usual  nervous,  ener 
getic  action  of  the  heart.  Literally  it  seemed  to  be  bro 
ken. 

So  much  were  Alice  and  Matilda  impressed  by  the  change 
in  me,  that  neither  ventured  to  ask  for  an  explanation. 
The  younger  children  shared  magnetically  in  the  feeling. 
What  a  silent  table  !  How  different  from  our  usual  cheer 
fulness  ! 

At  the  proper  hour,  we  all  started  for  church.  I  thought 
the  placid  face  of  the  old  clergyman  looked  more  benevo 
lent  and  tranquil  than  ever.  "  He  is  at  rest,  at  rest,"  I  said 
to  myself.  "  Shall  I  ever  be  at  rest  ?" 

The  services  did  not  attract  my  attention,  until  the  text 
was  announced.  It  was  as  follows  : 

"  The  spirit  of  a  man  will  sustain  his  infirmity ;  but  a 
wounded  spirit  who  can  bear?" 

"  My  friends,"  said  the  old  minister,  "  the  translation  of 

a  part  of  this  verse  from  the  Hebrew  is  not  felicitous.     Let 

me  improve  it  by  another  rendering.     '  The  spirit  of  a  man 

will  sustain  his  infirmity  ;  but  a  wounded  spirit — what  shall 

17* 


394  UNDERCURRENTS 

sustain  it  f  That  is  the  question  I  propose  to  answer  this 
morning. 

"  The  spirit  of  a  man  will  sustain  his  infirmity  !  What  a 
statement  of  the  power,  and  might,  and  pride  of  the  human 
race !  Ah !  yes ;  the  spirit  will  sustain  against  all  infir 
mity  ;  it  will  carry  man  resolute  and  undaunted  through 
fire  and  sword ;  in  perils  by  land  and  by  water ;  through 
misfortunes  and  calamities  ;  through  contests,  troubles,  and 
dangers ;  'midst  disease  and  pestilence ;  and  it  may  even 
nerve  him  to  meet  death  itself  with  dignity  and  composure. 

"  But  if  man's  spirit  falters ;  if  the  day  comes  when  the 
keepers  of  the  house  shall  tremble,  if  a  wound  is  inflicted 
here'1''  (he  laid  his  hand  on  his  heart),  "  what  is  to  be  done  ? 
The  form  of  the  question  in  the  text  implies  that  there  can 
be  no  help  from  within.  Physically,  a  man  cannot  support 
himself  by  his  own  weight.  Neither  can  the  spirit  receive 
support  through  its  own  power." 

The  venerable  man  went  on  to  show  how  only  the 
"  FATHER  of  our  spirits"  can  heal  the  wounds  of  the  spirit. 
That  it  is  not  until  man  is  brought  into  direct  communion 
with  his  MAKER,  that  he  is  armed  at  all  points,  and  proof 
against  whatever  may  happen. 

I  have  no  design  to  give  even  an  abstract  of  the  dis 
course,  but  only  to  convey  the  leading  paramount  idea,  I 
listened  entranced.  Every  word  seemed  prepared  for  me, 
directed  toward  me. 

By  degrees,  as  he  proceeded,  I  felt  a  sense  of  relief  steal 
over  me.  The  action  of  the  heart  resumed  its  healthful 
pulsation.  By  a  sort  of  instinctive  effort,  I  ejaculated  in  a 
low  tone,  "  GOD  help  me  !" 


OF      WALL- STREET.  395 

I  went  out  with  the  rest  of  the  congregation,  a  happy, 
cheerful  man.  The  children  felt  the  change,  they  were 
cheerful  too.  But  no  explanation  was  asked.  All  seemed 
more  than  content  that  I  was  myself  again. 

Monday  morning  I  resumed  my  labors  in  tho  street,  as  if 
nothing  had  happened  to  disturb  my  serenity.  Not  one 
of  the  four  worthies  whom  I  have  mentioned  cared  a  jot 
whether  I  was  honest  or  not.  Neither  would  Frink  ever 
stop  to  inquire  the  character  of  a  man  who  brought  him  a 
note  to  shave.  I  knew,  however,  that  my  reputation  had 
been  greatly  injured  by  the  report  of  my  arrest.  It  had 
the  effect  to  ostracize  me  to  a  certain  extent,  but  it  did  not 
interfere  with  my  every-day  drudgery. 

In  a  few  days  I  told  Alice  and  Matilda  what  had  become 
of  the  savings  bank  money.  I  narrated  the  whole  story. 
My  daughter  was  only  happy  that  the  money  had  been  kept 
for  this  very  emergency,  and  tears  stood  in  her  eyes  at  the 
thought  of  what  I  had  undergone.  Matilda  was  in  a  rage. 
She  declared  she  would  not  have  paid  the  man  a  cent,  the 
sordid,  contemptible  creature ;  she  would  lie  in  prison  all 
her  life  first.  Why  did  I  allow  the  scoundrel  to  frighten 
me  ?  As  to  Devine,  he  ought  to  be  hung — he  would  be 
hung.  She  wondered  I  could  have  been  so  misled ;  why 
did  I  have  any  thing  to  do  with  such  a  knave  ? 

In  the  midst  of  all  this  Warren  came  in. 

•'  Tell  him  about  it,  Alice,"  said  Matilda. 

Alice  looked  a  little  confused.  She  glanced  at  Warren, 
thon  at  me. 


396  UNDERCURRENTS 

"  Yes,  tell  him,"  cried  Warren,  smiling. 

"I  think  ./can  repeat  the  story  better  than  Alice,''  said  I. 

So  I  told  the  whole  over  again.  Warren  listened  atten 
tively.  "  I  have  heard  of  this  Devine,"  he  said.  "  He  is 
an  arrant  knave,  very  ingenious  and  adroit.  If  you  attempt 
to  arrest  him,  he  would  be  ready  with  straw  bail,  and 
would  swear  you  out  of  it  in  the  end.  But  we  will  do 
one  thing — stop  the  payment  of  the  note.  This  may  drive 
the  scoundrel  into  a  compromise  before  it  falls  due." 

During  this  conversation,  I  observed  what  I  had  never  be 
fore  noticed,  a  certain  degree  of  confidence  between  Alice 
and  Warren.  I  thought  a  moment.  Why  did  not  Matilda, 
who  was  usually  impulsive  and  ready,  open  the  note  sub 
ject  ?  Why  did  she  call  on  Alice  ? 

I  experienced  a  feeling  of  satisfaction  at  the  thought 
that  the  two  were  becoming  interested  in  each  other. 
Warren  had  now  been  admitted  to  the  bar,  and  was  strug 
gling  with  might  and  main  to  get  into  practice.  I  had  no 
fears  for  his  success,  as  I  looked  at  his  resolute  counte 
nance,  and  ample  forehead,  and  thought  what  he  had  already 
achieved  for  himself,  and  how.  What  a  happiness,  could  I 
see  Alice,  dutiful,  self-sacrificing  Alice,  married  to  such  a 
man !  What  a  contrast  to  that  puny,  insignificant  Havens  ! 
Charley,  too,  who,  as  his  health  was  delicate,  became  the 
more  nice  in  his  appreciation,  was  greatly  attached  to  War 
ren.  Anna  liked  him.  Matilda  liked  him. 

So  the  months  sped  away.  I  continued  at  my  servile 
work  in  Wall-street,  drudging,  toiling,  slaving  on.  I  made 
very  few  new  acquaintances,  while  occasionally  old  ones 


OF      WALL-STREET.  397 

died  or  disappeared.  I  thus  became  more  and  more 
isolated.  As  years  passed,  the  inconveniences  of  age 
increased.  I  was  now  the  oldest  man  in  the  street  who 
employed  himself  in  just  my  business.  I  seemed  to  have 
taken  poor  Downer's  place,  and  presume  I  was  called  "  Old 
Parkinson,"  as  he  was  called  "  Old  Sol."  I  began  to  find 
that  I  could  not  run  about  as  readily  as  in  former  years. 
In  ascending  a  flight  of  stairs,  I  had  to  stop  at  the  top  and 
take  breath.  In  going  up  and  down  town,  I  was  frequently 
forced  to  ride. 

Two  or  three  young  men  had  latterly  introduced  them 
selves  to  my  constituents,  and  threatened  by  their  superior 
activity,  and  by  being  very  unscrupulous,  to  supplant  me. 
All  this  told  very  hard  on  rne.  But  I  nevertheless  worked 
cheerfully  on,  grateful  for  life  and  health,  happy  if  I  might 
only  support  those  who  were  dependent  on  me. 


398  UNDERCURRENTS 


CHAPTER    XVII. 

CRISIS. 

IN  August,  1857,  came  the  monster  "Crisis"  Unlike 
the  monster  " Cholera"  "  Crisis"  sprang  fiercely  at  the 
rich,  seizing  them  by  the  throat,  tapping  the  jugular,  mak 
ing  instant  depletion  of  wealth.  This  time  it  came  sud 
denly.  Bankers,  and  brokers,  and  merchants  at  New 
port,  and  Saratoga,  and  Sharon,  and  Cape  May,  were 
telegraphed  to  fly  home  and  save  themselves.  They  did 
fly  home,  to  find  themselves  not  worth  saving.  What  a 
fluttering !  what  a  commotion !  After  that  what  changes ! 
Those  who  occupied  first  seats  moving  down  to  the  lowest 
benches.  The  old  tale  again,  with  renewed  severity.  I 
looked  on.  Twice  I  had  been  through  similar  scenes.  Now 
I  was  impregnable.  I  had  no  friend  or  relative  whose  for 
tune  was  about  to  be  lost.  The  storm  swept  high.  The 
humble,  who  had  little  to  be  anxious  about,  suffered  no 
apprehensions.  I  was  glad  that  Warren  -was  not  in  any 
pursuit  where  crisis  could  visit  him.  But  a  great  many  of 
my  old  acquaintances  went  down.  Among  these  was  the 
man  who  refused  to  credit  my  explanation  about  the  note, 
and  caused  my  arrest.  He  was  swept  completely  away. 
Screwtight  and  Company,  and  Gripeall,  both  went  by  the 
board.  I  am  almost  sorry  to  say,  so  did  Oilnut.  This 
bland  creature  had  speculated  largely  in  certain  manufac- 


OF      WALL-STREET.  399 

tures,  which  adverse  affairs  knocked  completely  in  the  head. 
He  made  a  bad  failure.  My  people  were  of  a  different 
stamp.  It  is  true  they  lost  a  great  deal  of  money,  but  then 
they  had  it  to  lose.  From  all  I  could  learn,  Frink  sunk 
about  fifty  thousand  dollars,  not  a  large  sum  considering 
the  amount  he  had  invested,  an  evidence  of  the  caution 
with  which  he  operated.  I  will  say  one  thing  for  Frink,  I 
never  saw  a  man  lose  money  with  such  perfect  nonchalance. 
He  would  work  an  hour  with  real  concern  to  save  or  make 
a  sixpence ;  and  he  would  bear  the  loss  of  ten  thousand 
dollars  with  entire  equanimity. 

Bank  stock  made  a  terrific  tumble.  Some  fell  over  thirty 
per  cent.  Here  was  a  rare  chance  for  those  who  had 
money,  for  in  a  year  the  broken  paper  would  be  tinkered 
up,  or  in  some  way  patched  together,  and  the  stock  go 
back  to  the  old  figure.* 

It  seemed  strange  enough  to  me  to  be  standing  by,  look 
ing  at  all  these  changes.  Even  as  I  had  been  obliged  to  sell 
our  house  and  furniture,  so  they  who  were  lately  so  rich, 
some  of  them  old  acquaintances,  others  comparatively  new 
men,  were  obliged  to  sell  theirs.  Some  of  these  individuals 
exhibited  remarkable  cordiality  toward  me.  They  would 
stop  and  shake  hands,  and  affect  much  candor  in  speaking  of 
their  failure,  as  if  they  would  say,  "We  are  now  one  of  you, 
and  we  may  as  well  talk  it  all  over." 

*  Our  banks  could  not  go  into  a  general  liquidation  at  any  time,  and  return  more 
than  half  their  capital  to  the  stockholders.  This  is  of  little  consequence,  since  such  an 
occurrence  will  never  happen,  for  it  presupposes  a  general  liquidation  of  the  whole 
mercantile  community.  Occasionally  a  bank  gets  a  black  eye,  is  forced  to  settle  up, 
and  rarely  pays  over  lifty  cents  on  a  dollar,  often  much  less.  The  fact  is,  the  banks 
represent  the  commercial  interests.  They  are  really  special  partners  in  the  business 
of  each  one  of  their  customers,  and  suffer  accordingly. 


400  UNDERCURRENTS 

Meanwhile,  my  own  special  work  went  on  as  usual,  with 
the  difference  that  I  had  to  run  longer  and  later,  and  for  less 
pay.  By  degrees  my  rent  got  in  arrear.  The  landlord,  b^ 
virtue  of  my  punctuality  for  so  many  years,  was  lenient,  but 
I  could  not  expect  him  to  wait  forever.  Petty  debts  began 
to  accumulate,  incurred  as  a  matter  of  necessity,  with  the 
hope  that  some  fortunate  day's  work  might  sweep  them  off. 
But  the  fortunate  days  grew  more  and  more  infrequent,  and 
the  petty  debts  larger.  I  earned  and  paid  as  fast  as  I  could, 
but  it  was  evident  that  sooner  or  later  I  must  go  down.  I 
was  like  a  man  struggling  for  life  against  a  strong  current, 
and  gradually  weakened  by  its  force.  Still  I  managed  to  go 
through  that  winter.  As  I  look  back  to  it,  I  can  hardly  say 
how.  I  sold  one  or  two  valuable  articles  from  my  house, 
and  some  choice  books  from  my  library,  and  so  we  kepi  on. 


OF      WALL-STREET.  401 


CHAPTER     XVIII. 

THE    GIRL    ON    THE    SIDEWALK. 

IT  was  a  pleasant  day  in  the  month  of  September,  1858. 
I  am  brought  to  this  period  after  encountering  the  same 
wretched  routine  which  I  have  already  described  too  often. 
Two  quarters'  rent  remain  due  upon  my  house,  and  we  are 
running  into  the  third.  The  landlord  has  kindly  but  decid 
edly  announced  that  we  must  prepare  to  vacate  the  premises 
in  time  for  the  fall  demand.  There  is  no  help  for  it,  we 
must  go.  My  own  health  begins  to  fail.  This  incessant, 
ever-present,  never-ending  anxiety,  coupled  with  too  much 
hard  work,  tells  severely  on  me.  But  my  spirit  is  tranquil, 
my  mind  serene,  my  heart  strong. 

It  was  a  pleasant  day  in  the  month  of  September.  I  had 
started  somewhat  earlier  than  usual,  thinking  to  walk  the 
entire  way  home.  I  proceeded  slowly  up  Broadway  to  its 
junction  with  the  Fifth  avenue,  and  thence  along  that  street 
of  palaces.  Not  a  trace  of  the  last  year's  disasters  could  be 
noticed.  It  seemed  to  me  that  the  carriages  were  more  nu 
merous  than  ever,  the  liveries  more  gaudy.  This  part  of  the 
town  had  been  built  up  since  I  moved  from  my  old  home. 
In  fact,  we  began  to  find  ourselves  almost  writhin  the  fashion 
able  precincts.  Expensive  houses  had  gone  up  in  the  adja 
cent  streets,  and  several  near  us  in  our  own.  Indeed,  our 
landlord  had  more  than  once  spoken  of  taking  down  the 


402  UNDERCUK  RENTS 

simple  structure  in  which  we  lived  and  the  two  adjoining 
ones,  and  erecting  buildings  more  in  accordance  with  the 
present  surroundings. 

While  I  pursued  my  walk  along  the  avenue,  a  barouche 
drove  by  and  stopped  a  little  beyond  me.  Just  as  I  reached 
it,  Henrietta  Stevenson — now  Mrs.  Havens — descended,  fol 
lowed  by  a  fashionably  dressed  young  woman,  very  affected, 
who  put  on  a  great  variety  of  airs  as  she  shook  her  dress 
into  shape  after  reaching  the  sidewalk. 

Mrs.  Havens  stopped  short  on  seeing  me  ;  offering  her 
hand,  she  exclaimed :  "  Why,  Mr.  Parkinson,  is  it  possible 
this  is  you  ?  What  a  long  time  since  we  have  met.  Don't 
wait  for  me,  Maria,"  to  the  supercilious  article  who  stood 
by  her.  "Do  you  know,  Mr.  Parkinson,  I  have  been 
thinking  of  you  all  the  morning?  You  never  can  guess 
why.  Wont  you  come  in  a  moment,  I  want  to  speak  with 
you?" 

She  led  the  way  into  her  fine  house,  purchased  since  her 
marriage,  and  newly  furnished.  Entering  the  front  parlor, 
she  asked  me  to  be  seated. 

"  Now,"  she  said,  assuming  a  confidential  tone,  "  I  am  go 
ing  to  tell  you  something  strange.  Do  you  remember — oh ! 
years  ago,  so  many  years  ago  it  seems  to  me — one  day,  after 
calling  at  your  house  in  Broadway,  that  you  put  me  in  the 
carriage,  and  just  as  I  was  driving  off  I  saw  a  strange-look 
ing  little  girl  staring  so  fiercely  at  me  that  it  nearly  took  my 
breath  away  ?  No,  you  don't  know  that ;  but  do  you  not 
recollect  I  asked  you  to  speak  to  her  and  find  out  if  she 
wanted  any  thing ;  and  do  you  remember  how  she  looked, 
and  how  saucily  she  answered  ?" 


OF      WALL- STREET.  403 

I  began  to  feel  not  a  little  curious  to  know  what  was  com 
ing,  but  I  replied,  quietly:  "Yes,  I  recollect  it." 

"  Now,  will  you  believe  it,  Mr.  Parkinson,  I  saw  that  same 
girl  yesterday." 

"  Well." 

"  The  same  girl,  grown  up  into  a  young  lady,  a  beautiful 
young  lady." 

"But  is  there  any  thing  surprising  in  that?" 

"  Wait  till  you  hear  me  through.  Yes,  grown  up  into 
a  very,  very  beautiful  young  lady  ;  only  the  eyes  were  just 
the  same,  just  as  fierce,  just  as  cruel,  and  she  looked  at 
me  so." 

Mrs.  Havens  here  nearly  gave  way  to  hysterics,  but  some 
how,  I  could  not  feel  any  great  alarm  on  her  account.  I  sat 
calmly  waiting  to  hear  if  she  had  any  thing  more  to  add. 

At  that  moment  a  pretty  little  child,  just  beginning  to 
walk,  toddled  into  the  room,  followed  by  its  nurse. 

"  The  dear  little  creature.  That's  my  Hetty,  Mr.  Parkin 
son,"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Havens,  rising.  "  She  is  a  little  angel. 
What  could  I  do  without  her  ?"  and  she  caressed  the  child. 
"  Now  you  can  take  her,  nurse." 

"The  fact  is,"  she  continued,  "I  was  so  nervous  I  did  not 
sleep  a  wink  all  night." 

"  But  really  I  am  at  a  loss  to  discover  the  reason  of  so 
much  excitement." 

"  I  cannot  tell,  and  that's  what  distresses  me  so.  It  has 
excited  me — I  am  excited,  and  I  cannot  help  it,"  and  she 
began  to  cry. 

It  seemed  very  extraordinary,  that  scene.  Of  course  T 
was  now  certain  that  it  was  Matilda  Hitchcock  whom  Mrs. 


404  UXDERCUKREXTS 

Havens  had  encountered.  But  how  extraordinary  the  effect 
on  her ! 

"  I  do  not  know,  my  dear  Mr.  Parkinson,"  she  continued, 
"  what  is  the  matter  with  me.  I  never  shall  be  as  happy  as 
I  was  in  old  times.  You  have  no  idea  how  miserable  I  am 
— indeed,  you  have  not." 

I  was  desirous  to  avoid  any  confidential  communication, 
but  I  began  to  suspect  that  Mrs.  Havens  was  not  so  happy 
in  her  domestic  relations  as  she  had  anticipated ;  that,  coup 
led  with  some  such  misfortune,  she  was  experiencing  the 
usual  heart  vacancy  which  her  wealth,  and  consequent  inac 
tivity  of  mind  and  body,  sensibly  increased.  In  this  way  I 
accounted  for  her  fits  of  nervous  depression  and  susceptibili 
ty.  In  one  of  these  moods  she  had  seen  Matilda  and  recog 
nized  her.  That  was  a  little  extraordinary  to  be  sure,  but  I 
had  myself  discovered  the  identity,  which  was  just  as  re 
markable.  The  fact  is,  it  was  not  easy,  after  seeing  Matilda 
once,  to  forget  her.  On  this  particular  occasion  she  had, 
doubtless,  thrown  the  whole  force  of  her  passionate  nature 
into  the  look  she  gave  to  the  fashionable  denizen  of  the 
avenue,  and  this  seemed  to  me  a  natural  explanation  of  the 
matter. 

Mrs.  Havens  rallied.  "Excuse  me,  Mr.  Parkinson,  but 
you  seem  to  be  such  an  old  friend — such  a  good  friend — that 
I  feel  relieved  to  tell  you  about  this.  I  see  so  little  of  you. 
Why  doesn't  Alice  come  and  see  me.  Anna  has  grown  up 
now,  I  suppose.  Charley,  my  little  favorite,  is  almost  a  man 
by  this  time  ?" 

She  ran  on  in  this  style  a  few  minutes,  until  I  rose  to  leave. 
I  really  did  not  know  what  to  say  to  her.  Fortunately, 


OF      WALL-STREET.  405 

she  talked  so  fast  it  was  not  necessary  for  me  to  say  any 
thing. 

Just  as  I  was  going,  she  rang  the  bell. 

"  Not  quite  yet,  Mr.  Parkinson.  You  will  taste  a  glass  of 
sherry.  I  recollect  Madeira  used  to  be  your  favorite,  but 
Frederick  says  Madeira  is  a  myth  now,  and  I -can  only  oiler 
you  sherry." 

I  stopped  and  drank  wine  with  this  spoiled  child  of  for 
tune,  this  nervous,  fidgety,  handsome  woman.  Glad  to  make 
my  escape,  I  murmured  a  few  words  about  not  permitting 
herself  to  be  excited.  I  could  see  nothing  to  cause  alarm, 
and  so  forth.  The  atmosphere  inside  sickened  and  oppressed 
me.  Outside  I  breathed  freely,  and  hurried  on  my  way, 
grateful  that  Alice  and  Anna  had  not  grown  up  like  Mrs. 
Havens.  Yet  wealth,  or  a  foolish  application  of  it,  would 
have  made  them  like  her. 


406  UNDERCURRENTS 


CHAPTER    XIX. 

WHAT    DOES    IT    MEAN? 

WE  were  all  seated  that  same  evening  around  our  large 
table.  I  was  reading  the  paper.  Charley  sat  occupied  with 
a  book,  Matilda  was  sewing,  Alice  was  at  the  piano,  and 
Anna  teasing  Warren,  who  was  turning  over  the  leaves  of  a 
volume  which  he  was  not  permitted  to  read.  Presently  he 
laid  it  aside. 

"  There,  now,"  said  Anna,  "  you  need  not  take  it  up  any 
more.  I  don't  want  you  to  read  when  you  come  here ;  I 
want  you  to  talk." 

It  was  evident  that  Robert  Warren  was  preoccupied/ 
for  he  only  smiled  in  an  absent  manner,  without  saying  a 
word. 

Presently  he  looked  up  and  said  :  "  Matilda  Hitchcock." 

"  Well,  sir." 

"  Do  you  know  what  was  the  Christian  name  of  Mr.  Wai- 
den,  your  father's  uncle  ?" 

"  James." 

"  How  long  ago  did  he  die  ? 

"  He  died  about  six  months  before  I  was  born  ;  I  suppose 
you  know  how  old  I  am  ?" 

"  He  died  after  your  father  ?" 

"  The  week  after.     He  never  heard  of  pa's  death." 


OF      WALL-STREET.  407 

"What  did  you  ever  learn  about  his  will  ?" 

"Nothing,  except  that  he  left  all  his  property  to  a  distant 
relation." 

"  What  more  did  you  hear?" 

"  Now,  Robert  Warren,  please  don't  be  a  fool.  What 
more  did  I  hear,  you  ask.  I've  just  said  all  this  happened 
before  I  was  born." 

"  Oh  !  I  thought  your  mother  might  have  told  you  some 
thing  about  it." 

"  Well,  that  was  all  there  was  to  tell.  Uncle  died  and 
left  us  nothing." 

"  So  your  mother  told  you  ?" 

"  So  my  mother  told  me." 

"  And  you  were  born  six  months  afterward." 

"  I  was  born  six  months  afterward.  My  mother  told  me 
that,  too." 

"  You  are  sure  his  name  was  James  ?" 

"  If  by  4  his '  you  mean  my  father's  uncle,  Mr.  Walden,  I 
am  sure  his  name  was  James." 

"  Very  strange." 

"  What,  the  name  ?" 

"Oh!  no." 

"  Strange  that  he  should  be  called  James  ?" 

"Nonsense." 

"  Now,  Robert  Warren,  tell  me  why  you  ask  these  ques 
tions  ?" 

"  Oh  !  nothing  ;  just  to  satisfy  my  curiosity." 

"  About  what  ?" 

"  Why,  about  the  matter  generally." 

"  Well,  I  hope  it  is  satisfied." 


408  U  N  D  E  R  C  U  R  R  E  N  T  S 

"  Not  altogether ;  but  I  suppose  I  have  got  all  that  I  can 
out  of  you." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?"  chimed  in  Anna. 

Warren  smiled. 

"  Make  him  tell,  papa,"  said  Anna. 

I  confess  I  was  wondering  quite  as  much  as  she.  I  smiled, 
too,  and  said  nothing. 

"  Come  here,  Alice,  and  make  him  explain,"  cried  Anna, 

"  Oh !  he's  only  rehearsing,"  cried  Matilda ;  "  pray  let 
him  alone.  If  the  fellow  thinks  he  can  learn  how  to  exam 
ine  and  cross-examine  a  witness  by  practising  on  me,  I  am 
quite  willing  he  should." 

This  provoked  no  reply  from  Warren.  He  continued 
silent  and  abstracted,  and  in  a  little  while  took  his  leave. 

"  Really,  what  can  it  mean  ?"  continued  Anna,  as  Warren 
left  the  room. 

"  How  can  I  tell,"  said  Matilda,  pettishly,  "  unless  it 
means  he's  a  fool  ?" 

"  Well,  I  shall  not  give  it  up  so.  I  will  have  it  out  of 
him  next  time  he  comes,  and  Alice  shall  help  me.  (barley, 
don't  you  feel  interested  ?" 

"  Oh  !  yes,"  said  Charley,  looking  up  from  his  book ; 
"  but  then,  you  know  I  am  not  quite  so  excitable  as  you  are, 
and  I  am  willing  to  wait." 

"Bravo!  Charlie,"  cried  Matilda.  "There's  a  philoso 
pher  for  you." 


F      W  A  L  L - S  T  K  E  E  T.  409 


CHAPTER    XX. 

THE      TURNING-POINT 

ANOTHER  month  passed.  We  now  come  to  the  middle 
of  October.  Within  a  few  days,  several  persons  had  called 
to  see  the  house.  I  had  paid  the  landlord  forty-five  dollars 
on  account  of  the  rent.  It  was  the  semi-annual  interest  oil 
the  fund  of  the  two  younger  children,  invested  by  the  court. 
There  was  still  more  than  two  quarters  due,  and  the  pro 
prietor  said  he  could  not  let  it  run  on  any  longer  in  arrear. 
Every  day  I  expected  to  hear  that  the  house  had  been  let, 
and  we  must  go.  Go  where  ?  The  little  debts  due  in  the 
neighborhood  began  to  annoy  me.  By  that  species  of  pre 
science,  which  creditors  so  often  exhibit,  it  was  now  very 
generally  understood  I  was  reduced  to  extremities. 

It  was  Saturday  morning,  and  several  little  sums  had  to 
be  paid  that  afternoon,  or  we  must  go  without  our  Sunday's 
marketing.  As  I  was  leaving  the  house,  Alice  told  me  that 
the  servant-girl  wanted  a  part  of  her  month's  wages.  I 
hurried  to  my  office.  I  hoped  I  should  find  some  calls 
already  on  my  desk.  There  were  none.  I  went  to  half  a 
dozen  diiferent  places  where  I  thought  I  should  be  most  apt 
to  find  something  to  do,  but  no  one  just  then  required  my 
services.  The  sky  seemed  made  of  brass.  Never  had  I 
been  in  such  utter  perplexity. 

As  the  day  began  to  wear  away,  my  anxiety  increased 
18 


410  UNDERCURRENTS 

At  length  this  idea  came  into  my  head.  I  would  go  to  Mr. 
Frink,  and  ask  him  to  lend  me  five  dollars  !  I  had  rendered 
him  many  little  services,  for  which  I  received  no  compen 
sation.  Besides,  he  always  appeared  friendly.  It  Avas  not 
unusual  for  me  to  go  and  spend  a  few  minutes  with  him, 
even  if  I.  had  no  note  to  take  in,  for  he  sometimes  gave  me 
valuable  information  about  paper.  So  I  clambered  up  to 
his  little  room  to  try  the  experiment. 

Mr.  Frink  was  in,  engaged  as  usual  with  his  check-book. 
After  a  few  minutes  he  looked  up  at  me  over  his  spectacles, 
and  said  :  "  How  do  you  do  ?" 

Thereupon  a  rather  pleasant  conversation  ensued  ;  for  Mr. 
Frink,  when  he  had  nothing  else  to  do,  was  fond  of  hearing 
himself  talk,  especially  as  his  listeners  were  very  sure  to 
agree  with  him,  whatever  he  said. 

The  usurer  had  no  commands  for  me  on  the  present  occa 
sion,  and  as  the  longer  he  talked  the  more  unready  I  felt  to 
broach  my  subject,  I  determined  to  do  so  abruptly. 

Taking  advantage  of  a  pause  in  his  remarks,  I  said  :  "  Mr. 
Frink,  I  have  been  unfortunate  to-day  in  my  attempts  to 
make  a  little  money,  and  I  want  you  to  lend  me  five  dol 
lars." 

Mr.  Frink  immediately  commenced  again  at  his  check 
book,  saying  at  the  same  time,  in  his  ordinary  monotonous 
tone  :  "  I  never  go  into  any  such  transactions." 

"  I  know  you  do  not,"  I  replied ;  "  but  I  thought,  under 
the  circumstances,  you  might  possibly  accommodate  me 
with  this  small  sum." 

"  Oh !  it's  out  of  my  line ;  I  don't  do  any  of  that  sort  of 
business." 


OF      WALL -STREET.  411 

"  I  suppose  not.     Good  morning." 

I  went  back  to  my  desk.  Alice  was  standing  by  it  as  I 
entered. 

"  Papa,"  she  whispered,  "  Mr.  Hoyt  has  sent  in  word  that 
he  has  rented  the  house,  and  will  want  possession  on  Mon 
day." 

"  Very  well,  I  will  see  to  it.  Now  go  right  home  again, 
my  child." 

She  departed,  and  I  sank  into  a  chair  stunned  and  helpless. 
After  a  few  minutes  I  rose,  and  proceeded  with  uncertain 
steps  as  far  as  Broadway.  I  then  turned  and  walked  slowly 
the  whole  length  of  Wall-street  to  the  river.  There  I  en 
tered  a  ferry-boat,  crossed  and  recrossed,  while  I  stood 
against  the  railing  where  I  might  be  exposed  to  the  full 
sweep  of  the  air.  Landing,  I  retraced  my  steps,  entered 
my  office  again,  and  sat  down,  leaning  my  head  upon  my 
hand. 

It  was  past  three  o'clock.  All  the  other  inmates  of  the 
office  had  left  for  home.  Suddenly  the  door  opened  with  a 
jerk. 

"  Charles  E.  Parkinson !" 

I  looked  up.  It  was  the  postman,  already  standing  near 
me. 

"  Two  cents." 

He  left  a  letter,  received  the  money,  and  was  off  in  a 
twinkling. 

I  took  the  letter  in  my  hand,  and  looked  at  it  carefully. 
The  postmark  was  illegible,  the  handwriting  unfamiliar. 
I  suppose  I  held  it  five  minutes  before  I  opened  it.  Then, 
not  without  some  tremor,  I  broke  the  seal. 


412  UNDERCURRENTS 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

THE      LETTER. 

THE  envelope  covered  a  short  note  and  another  letter. 
The  note  read  as  follows  : 

"  CANANDAIGUA,  October  \ 5th,  1858. 
"  MR.  CHARLES  E.  PARKINSON,  New  York. 

"  DEAR  SIR  :  It  is  my  melancholy  duty  to  inform  you  of 
the  decease  of  William  Moulton,  Esq.,  who  died  of  con 
sumption  yesterday  morning  at  eleven  o'clock.  In  accor 
dance  with  his  last  injunctions,  I  send  you  the  enclosed. 
When  the  will  of  the  deceased  shall  be  submitted  for  pro 
bate,  I  will  communicate  with  you  further. 

"  Respectfully  yours, 

"  O.  L.  FARLEY." 

I  tore  open  and  read  the  letter. 

"TUESDAY  EVENING. 
"  DEAR  CHARLES  : 

"  It  is  many  years  since  a  letter  has  passed  between  us. 
I  sometimes  think  how  strange  it  is  that  two,  whose  sympa 
thies  were  so  much  in  common,  should  ever  lose  sight  of 
each  other.  Do  you  remember  how  in  college  we  declared 
our  fortunes  should  be  inseparable,  that  success  for  one 
should  be  success  'for  both  ?  I  reproach  myself  now  for 
not  communicating  with  you  during  my  long  sojourn  in 
Europe.  But  the  time  ran  by,  I  hardly  know  how,  and 


OF      WALL-STREET.  413 

my  health  becoming  more  and  more  precarious,  I  gave  up 
the  idea  of  indulging  in  correspondence.  For  the  last  two 
years,  I  have  kept  myself  alive  only  by  the  exercise  of  the 
greatest  care  and  prudence.  When  the  physicians  told  me 
I  could  not  live  three  months,  I  felt  an  irresistible  desire  to 
return  and  die  in  my  own  country.  I  came  back  to  our  old 
home.  Perhaps  you  were  not  aware  my  wife  died  in  1853. 
We  had  no  children,  but  we  adopted  one  of  my  nieces  and 
brought  her  up  as  our  own  daughter.  She  is  married  and 
I  am  now  with  her. 

"My  first  thought  on  reaching  here  two  weeks  ago, 
was  to  inquire  about  you.  It  happened  our  old  classmate, 
Allen,  who  you  recollect  used  to  know  about  every  body 
and  every  thing,  called  to  see  me  on  his  way  to  Cincinnati, 
and  he  told  me  you  were  suffering  pecuniary  distress.  I 
was  anxious  to  dispatch  a  letter  to  you  at  once,  but  I  had 
many  things  to  arrange  and  I  fejired  my  strength  would 
fail.  For  a  day  or  two  I  have  experienced  a  great  rallying 
of  the  system,  with  an  increase  of  strength  and  spirits.  I 
believe  it  to  be  the  forerunner  of  death. 

"And  now  about  your  own  affairs.  You  remember  the 
five  thousand  dollars  you  insisted  on  returning  to  me.  When 
that  was  sent  back,  I  said  to  myself,  who  knows  but  he 
may  want  it  again  ?  I  resolved  to  put  the  sum  apart 
and  to  treat  it  as  your  property.  With  this  idea  I  pur 
chased  some  real  estate  in  1845,  at  a  very  low  price,  and 
paid  for  it  with  your  five  thousand  dollars.  Had  I  been 
taken  away  at  any  time,  this  property  by  my  will  would 
have  gone  to  you.  It  is  now  worth  at  least  thirty  thousand 
dollars.  To  prevent  delay  in  affording  immediate  relief,  I 


414  UNDERCURRENTS  , 

have  altered  my  will  so  as  to  leave  to  you  that  sum 
in  cash,  or  rather  to  your  children,  the  income  to  you 
during  your  life.  I  put  it  in  this  shape  from  pruden 
tial  motives.  I  know  it  will  be  just  as  acceptable.  I  en 
close  in  this  letter  five  hundred  dollars.  It  is  a  little  token 
of  my  affection  and  in  remembrance  of  old  college  times. 
Those  times  come  back  to  me  very  vividly.  I  lay  awake 
all  last  night  and  thought  of  you  and  Ralph.  Do  you  re 
member  old  Pater  Omnium*!  Baker,  who  had  his  leg 
broken  playing  football,  I  saw  in  Nice  last  winter.  Do 
you  recollect  his  helping  us  that  cold  night  turn  the  bell 
and  pour  water  into  it,  so  that  there  would  be  no  ringing 
up  for  prayers  next  morning  ?  and  how  your  hands  got 
frozen  to  the  bell  so  tight  that  you  had  to  slip  them  out  of 
your  gloves,  which  you  left  behind  ? 

"Dear  friend,  just  as  I  must  die  my  youth  comes  back  to 
me.    Every  feeling  of  my  heart  is  young  to-night.    But  I  am, 
ready  to  die,  I  am  indeed.    For  many  years  I  have  endeavor 
ed  to  place  my  whole  trust  in  Christ.     I  trust  in  him  now. 

"  Dear  Charles,  how  relieved  you  will  feel  when  you  re 
ceive  this.  Think  of  it  as  coming  direct  from  '  Will,'  and 
think  of  '  Will,'  as  in  old  times,  on  his  way  with  you  to 
Rhode  Island,  to  spend  the  summer  vacation.  Don't  stop 
to  be  a  little  melancholy  when  you  read  this,  but,  if  you  love 
me,  give  a  happy  laugh  and  say,  '  Good  fellow.'  Adieu, 
"  Affectionately  yours, 

"  WILLIAM  MOULTON." 

A  small  piece  of  paper  fell  on  the  floor.     I  picked  it  up. 
It  was  a  bank  draft  for  the  five  hundred  dollars. 


OF      W  ALL-STREET.  415 

I  sat  very  still  for  a  little  while  for  fear  something  would 
disturb  the  dream,  and  bring  back  the  old  reality.  There 
was  the  letter — there  the  bank  draft.  I  looked  around 
the  room.  My  vision  was  accurate.  I  counted  three  desks 
besides  my  own,  six  chairs,  the  windows  and  the  doors. 

Then  I  looked  again  at  what  was  in  my  hand.  Could 
there  be  any  mistake  ?  No,  there  was  no  mistake.  I  gazed 
at  the  writing,  I  handled  the  draft.  I  read  and  reread  the 
last  page  of  the  letter.  He  says  I  must  laugh  and  say, 
"  Good  fellow."  Dear  Will — ha,  ha,  goo-goo-good  fel-fellow, 
ha,  ha,  goo-goo-good  fellow. 

Choking — eyes  blinded  by  tears — nerves  relaxed,  it  was 
too  much  for  me. 

Gradually  I  recovered.  Slowly  my  senses  returned.  I 
drew  a  long  breath,  folded  the  draft  and  placed  it  inside 
the  letter ;  folded  the  letter  and  placed  it  inside  the  en 
velope  ;  folded  Mr.  Farley's  note  and  placed  all  inside  his 
envelope,  and  put  it  carefully  in  the  breast-pocket  of  my 
coat.  I  rose  and  opened  the  door  into  the  street ;  stopped 
and  looked  back  into  the  room ;  turned  and  closed  the  door 
after  me  and  walked  away,  into  Broadway,  along  Broad 
way  past  Canal-street,  further  up  Broadway,  walking  slow 
ly  on.  Presently  I  put  my  hand  to  my  pocket,  drew  out 
the  package,  examined  it  to  see  if  the  letter  and  draft  were 
there — all  right — and  I  went  on. 

I  reached  home.  The  children  and  Matilda  were  in  the 
back  parlor.  They  were  sad,  and  Matilda  angry.  She  was 
in  a  rage  with  the  landlord.  They  all  looked  at  me  inquir 
ingly  as  I  entered.  I  stood  and  regarded  them  a  moment. 


416  UNDERCURRENTS 

Then  I  drew  the  package  from  my  pocket,  and  laying  it  on 
the  table,  said,  "  Read  that." 

Alice  took  it  up. 

"  Aloud." 

The  scene  which  ensued  restored  me  to.  myself.  Such  a 
scene  though.  Each  manifesting  feeling  in  the  Avay  most 
natural.  Laughing,  crying ;  quietly,  hysterically  ;  joy,  tears, 
pensiveness,  mirth. 

I  shall  not  attempt  to  describe  it. 

In  the  evening  Warren  came  as  usual.  I  hardly  know 
who  was  permitted  first  to  tell  the  good  news.  If  I  recollect 
i-ight  the  whole  family  had  a  share  in  it.  Warren  was,  of 
course,  delighted,  but  not  to  the  extent  to  satisfy  Matilda. 
She  was  vexed  with  him  for  not  showing  more  feeling,  and 
told  him  so.  It  seemed  to  me  Warren  appeared  a  little 
absent.  He  would  look  at  Matilda  vacantly,  and  make  no 
reply  to  her  accusations. 

After  a  while  I  went  out  in  order  to  call  on  my  landlord, 
with  the  hope  of  being  able  still  to  retain  the  house.  In  this 
I  was  successful.  When  I  told  him  I  was  ready  to  pay  up 
the  back  rent,  and  also  the  next  quarter  in  advance,  if  he 
desired,  he  appeared  to  be  rejoiced  on  my  account. 

"  I  can  get  rid  of  the  new  tenant,  Mr.  Parkinson,"  he  said, 
"  and  I  will  do  so.  I  am  very  glad  you  are  able  to  keep  the 
house,  more  than  glad,  I  assure  you,"  and  he  shook  my  hand 
cordially. 

When  I  got  home  Warren  had  already  gone.  He  left  a 
message  that  he  wanted  to  see  me  in  the  morning,  and 
would  call  before  going  down  town. 


OF      WALL-STREET.  417 


CHAPTER    XXII. 

A    STRAXGE    REVELATION. 

WHILE  we  were  seated  at  the  table  the  next  morning, 
Warren  entered.  He  had  already  breakfasted.  So  he  sat 
chatting  with  us  until  we  had  finished,  apparently  recovered 
from  his  previous  abstraction. 

When  we  were  all  through,  he  said  :  "  Now,  Mr.  Parkin 
son,  I  want  you  to  exert  your  authority,  and  order  these 
young  people  out  of  the  room,  so  that  we  may  hold  a  speci 
ally  private  consultation." 

"  Bless  the  man,"  cried  Matilda,  "  we  are  only  too  glad  of 
an  excuse  to  escape  from  his  stupid  society,"  and  off  they  all 
ran,  Charley  bringing  up  the  rear. 

"I  have,"  said  Warren,  advancing  his  chair  nearer  to 
mine,  and  speaking  deliberately,  "I  have  a  strange  revela 
tion  to  make — a  very  strange  revelation." 

"Pray  what  is  it  ?" 

"  I  would  not  speak  even  to  you  before  I  was  sure.  Now 
I  am  so  ;  it  is  settled  beyond  all  doubt  or  cavil." 

"  What,  pray  ?" 

"That  Matilda  is  entitled  to  the  whole  Walden  property." 

"  Heavens,  you  don't  say  so  !" 

"I  do,  indeed.     I  will  tell  you  all  about  it.     Some  time 
ago,  in  the  course  of  my  business,  I  had  occasion  to  look 
over  the  record  books  of  wills  in  the  surrogate's  office,  when, 
18* 


418  UNDERCURRENTS 

as  I  was  turning  a  leaf,  my  eye  fell  on  the  words,  '  Doctor 
Ralph  Hitchcock.'  They  arrested  my  attention,  for  I  knew 
that  was  the  name  of  Matilda's  father.  I  looked  to  see 
whose  will  it  was.  It  was  the  will  of  James  Walden.  I 
read  it.  Can  you  imagine  my  surprise  on  finding  that  the 
testator,  after  making  a  few  trifling  legacies,  devised  and 
bequeathed  the  whole  of  his  property  to  the  children  of  his 
nephew,  Doctor  Ralph  Hitchcock  of  Cincinnati;  this  failing, 
to  Thomas  Stevenson  of  the  city  of  New  York. 

"  I  was  thunderstruck.  It  \vas  as  simple  as  plain  English 
could  make  it.  I  looked  over  the  proceedings  before  the 
surrogate,  when  the  will  was  proved.  The  citation  had  been 
duly  served  on  "  Mrs.  Hitchcock,  widow  of  Ralph  Hitch 
cock."  She  did  not  attend.  It  was  proved  that  Dr.  Hitch 
cock  died  childless.  I  questioned  Matilda,  and  found  she 
"was  born  about  six  months  after  her  father's  death.  In  the 
midst  of  her  grief,  at  the  loss  of  her  husband,  the  widow, 
doubtless,  never  thought  of  getting  a  copy  of  the  will.  She 
was  probably  told  that  all  the  property  went  to  Mr.  Steven 
son.  She  would  not  be  disappointed,  for  she  did  not  expect 
any  part  of  it.  Living  so  far  away,  she  was  afterward  en 
tirely  lost  sight  of.  That  was  my  explanation  of  the  matter. 
Next  I  called  on  Thaddeus  Littleton,  who  was  executor  of 
James  Walden,  and  also  of  Thomas  Stevenson.  You  know 
what  a  careful,  accurate  man  he  is.  I  explained  the  object  of 
my  visit.  He  was  a  good  deal  excited  at  my  communication. 

"  There  was  no  doubt,  he  said,  that  Dr.  Hitchcock's  child, 
if  in  existence,  would  be  entitled  to  the  property ;  but  he 
declared  he  did  not  believe  any  was  living ;  that  I  must  be 
mistaken  or  had  been  imposed  on.  He  said  he  had  made 


OF      W  A  L  L  -  S  T  11  E  E  T  .  419 

proper  inquiries  after  Mr.  Walden  died,  and  was  satisfied, 
jit  the  time,  that  the  doctor  left  no  issue. 

"  I  explained  all,  very  particularly,  in  detail.  I  need  not 
repeat  to  you.  He  was  staggered ;  and  it  was  agreed  he 
should  quietly  investigate  the  subject  before  any  thing  was 
said  to  either  side.  That  is  what  he  has  been  doing.  He  is 
satisfied  there  was  a  child  born ;  that  Mrs.  Hitchcock 
removed  with  it  to  New  York,  and  it  now  only  remains  to 
prove  Matilda's  identity.  For  that  purpose  I  want  you  to 
call  on  Mr.  Littleton  this  morning,  and  tell  him  what  you 
know  on  the  subject.  In  fact  I  have  made  an  appointment 
for  you  to  meet  him  at  ten  o'clock  at  his  office.  Can  you 
go?" 

"  Certainly,  if  I  can  recover  from  the  amazement  I  am  in 
at  present." 

"  I  don't  wonder  at  that,"  replied  Warren.  "  The  fact  is, 
it  has  seemed  as  if  I  were  dreaming  from  the  time  I  first 
came  across  the  record  of  that  will.  Now,  however,  I  feel 
sure.  Come,  it  is  time  for  us  to  be  going — not  a  syllable  to 
Matilda  yet," 

I  nodded ;  went  and  put  on  my  coat,  and  off  we  started 
for  Mr.  Littleton's. 

As  I  walked  along,  the  ground  seemed  to  dance  under 
me.  I  appeared  to  be  in  some  strange  delirium.  Was  I  the 
same  Charles  Parkinson  who  walked  down  town  twenty-four 
hours  before  ?  Oh,  my  GOD  !  is  it  possible — can  it  be  possi 
ble  ?  Am  I  free  at  last  ?  Is  such  a  tremendous  change  in 
store  for  Matilda  ? 

My  brain  teeming  with  these  thoughts,  we  reached  Mr. 
Littleton's  office.  That  gentleman  received  us  y  y  politely. 


420  U  N  D  E  E  C  U  E  E  E  X  T  S 

"  Mr.  Parkinson,  I  recollect  you  perfectly  ;  although  it  is 
many  years  since  we  used  to  meet.  We  had  a  mutual  friend 
in  Air.  Alton.  Dear  me,  dear  me,  what  about  this  dreadful 
business.  I  say  dreadful,  when  thinking  of  poor  Mrs.  Ha 
vens.  Well,  well,  who  could  have  believed  it  ?  Pray  tell 
me  all  you  know  of  this  young  person." 

My  statement  was  very  direct,  and  to  the  point.  I  could 
not  only  certify  myself  as  to  Matilda's  identity,  but  I  could 
name  many  others  who  could  testify  to  the  same  point. 

Mr.  Littleton  heard  me  in  silence. 

When  I  had  concluded,  he  exclaimed:  "I  see,  I  see.  It 
is  very  clear ;  but  how  extraordinary  !  and  yet  how  simple 
the  mistake.  It  is  very  easily  explained.  You  must  know 
Mr.  Walden's  will  was  made  two  or  three  years  before  his 
death,  and  while  Dr.  Hitchcock  had  children  living.  After 
Mr.  Walden  died,  I  wrote  to  inquire  if  the  doctor  left  any 
issue,  and  was  told  he  had  not.  I  did  not  communicate  the 
contents  of  the  will  to  the  widow,  because  I  thought  it 
would  only  be  aggravating  to  her  feelings." 

"  Just  my  own  explanation  of  the  matter,"  I  said. 

"But  what  is  to  become  of  the  poor  woman?"  continued 
Mr.  Littleton,  "  what  is  to  become  of  her  ?  By  the  way, 
what  kind  of  person  is  this  young  lady  ?" 

"  One  who  will  not  be  a  discredit  to  her  new  position,"  I 
answered. 

"  I  am  glad  of  that.  She  will  step  into  a  pretty  property, 
a  good  deal  larger,  too,  than  people  think  for.  It  had  got  to 
be  a  clean  fifteen  thousand  a  year  before  Miss  Stevenson 
married,  and  it  was  so  tied  up  that  her  husband  could  not 
meddle  with  the  principal.  Nice  little  demand  for  arrears, 


OF      WALL-STREET.  421 

if  there  was  any  body  to  respond.  I  have  a  very  disagreeable 
business  on  my  hands,"  continued  he;  "I  don't  see  how  I 
am  to  get  through  with  it.  Just  think  of  my  being  obliged 
to  go  in  and  tell  Mrs.  Havens  that  she  must  vacate  those 
premises  and  surrender  her  whole  fortune  ;  in  short  that  she 
is  a  beggar.  But  I  have  got  to  do  it.  It  is  fit  and  proper 
that  I  should  be  the  person.  As  executor  of  her  father  this 
painful  task  devolves  on  me.  Old  as  I  am,  I  would  rather  re 
ceive  thirty-nine  lashes,  well  laid  on,  than  perform  it.  If  her 
husband  were  half  a  man  I  should  not  feel  so  distressed  about 
it;  as  it  is,  GOD  only  knows  what  is  to  become  of  her." 

After  some  further  conversation,  I  took  leave  of  Mr.  Lit 
tleton,  with  the  understanding  that  he  should  open  the  sub 
ject  to  Mrs.  Havens  that  evening,  and  communicate  with  me 
in  a  day  or  two.  I  returned  to  speak  with  Matilda. 

Reaching  home  again,  I  found  Anna  practising  at  the 
piano.  I  sent  her  up-stairs  to  ask  Matilda  to  come  down. 

When  she  entered,  I  led  the  way  into  the  back  parlor, 
and  stopping  short,  I  said :  "  Matilda,  you  must  summon  all 
your  philosophy.  I  have  a  very  extraordinary  communica 
tion  to  make  to  you." 

"  Well,  what  is  it  ?" 

"Are  you  ready  for  it?  Mind,  I  tell  you,  it  will  give  you 
a  shock." 

"  I  am  ready." 

"It  turns  out  you  are  entitled  to  all  your  uncle  Walden's 
property." 

"What!" 

"It  turns  out  you  are  entitled  to  all  your  uncle  Walden's 
property." 


UNDERCURRENTS 

"  Is  that  so  truly  ?" 

"  It  is ;"  and  I  told  her  all  about  it. 

It  was  a  scene  for  the  painter.  We  were  both  standing, 
and  while  I  related  the  story,  her  eyes  dilated,  and  her  coun 
tenance  became  rigid.  Sunshine  and  shadow  flitted  across 
her  face.  Pain,  terror,  hope. 

"  And  all  this  is  certain  beyond  a  question — beyond  the 
possibility  of  a  question  ?"  she  asked. 

"  It  is." 

She  stood  a  moment,  her  eyes  fixed  on  vacancy. 

"  What  a  wicked  wretch  I  have  been  all  my  life,"  she  ex 
claimed,  and  rushed  out  of  the  room. 


OF     WALL-STREET.  423 


CHAPTER    XXIII. 

THE    INTERVIEW. 

A  FEW  days  served  to  settle  the  whole  matter.  It  was 
too  plain  for  the  lawyers  to  raise  any  question  about.  Mr. 
Littleton  himself,  one  of  the  most  acute  of  his  profession, 
decided  that  it  was  a  clear  case,  and  nothing  was  left  but  to 
put  the  whole  matter  in  proper  legal  shape.  This,  too,  was 
soon  arranged. 

Then  it  was  that  Matilda  asked  me  to  go  with  her  one 
morning  to  see  Mrs.  Havens.  Since  the  first  burst  of  feel 
ing,  she  had  preserved  in  every  respect  her  ordinary  demea 
nor.  She  was  perhaps  more  quiet  and  thoughtful,  yet  quite 
natural. 

We  walked  along  together,  neither  speaking  a  word.  As 
we  mounted  the  steps  of  Mrs.  Havens'  (now  Matilda's) 
house,  she  said :  "  You  will  introduce  me."  We  were  ushered 
in,  and  presently  Mrs.  Havens  made  her  appearance.  Poor 
woman,  how  she  had  changed  since  I  saw  her  last,  only  a 
few  weeks  before.  I  was  afraid  she  was  about  to  give  way 
to  another  fit  of  hysterics,  but  a  real  trouble  had  improved 
her  nerves,  and  she  preserved  a  decent  composure.  I  in 
troduced  them  to  each  other  and  we  took  seats. 

"Mrs.  Havens,"  said  Matilda  in  a  subdued  tone,  which  I 
thought  required  some  effort  to  make  firm ;  "  Mrs.  Havens, 
I  have  come  to  ask  you  a  single  question.  Several  years 


424  .      U  X  D  E  11  C  U  R  R  E  X  T  S 

ago  my  mother  wrote   you  a  letter,   and   sent  it  to  your 
house.     I  have  called  to  ask  if  you  ever  received  it." 

"  Never,  so  help  me  Heaven,  never/'  replied  Mrs.  Havens 
earnestly.  "I  declare  to  you  I  did  not  know  your  mother 
resided  in  the  city,  or  that  she  had  a  daughter  living." 

"  I  am  satisfied,"  said  Matilda,  rising  to  go. 

"  Stay,"  continued  Mrs.  Havens.  "  I  think  I  can  recall 
the  circumstance.  One  day  I  was  quite  ill,  so  ill  that  I 
remained  all  the  morning  in  bed.  My  maid  brought  in  a 
letter,  and  as  I  was  suffering  from  a  severe  headache,  I  bade 
her  open  it.  She  did  so,  remarking  that  it  was  a  commu 
nication  from  some  poor  person,  who  wished  for  aid.  I 
asked  her  if  any  one  was  waiting  for  an  answer.  She  said 
there  was  not.  I  bade  her  put  the  letter  safely  aside,  that 
I  might  examine  it  when  I  felt  better.  The  next  day  I 
asked  her  for  it,  and  she  said  it  had  been  thrown  into  the 
fire  by  accident.  Possibly  it  was  the  letter  you  speak  of, 
but  I  solemnly  declare  I  did  not  know  from  whom  it  came." 

A  flashing  of  the  eyes,  a  swelling  of  the  veins  of  the  fore 
head,  a  dilation  of  the  nostrils,  a  close  compression  of  the 
lips,  while  Mrs.  Havens  was  giving  an  account  of  the  fate 
of  her  mother's  letter,  led  me  to  fear  some  passionate  out 
break  on  the  part  of  Matilda.  But  she  controlled  herself, 
and  only  bowed  when  the  former  finished. 

Turning  to  leave  the  room,  she  said  :  "  Mr.  Parkinson  will 
call  on  you  in  a  few  days.  I  assure  you  I  am  much  re 
lieved  by  your  explanation." 

We  walked  back  to  my  house  as  we  came — in  silence. 


OF      WALL-STREET.  425 


i  CHAPTER    XXIV. 

THE      CONCLUSION. 

"  IT  is  now  my  turn  to  ask  that  the  room  be  cleared  of  all 
idle  people,  triflers  and  useless  folks.  I  suppose  Alice  will 
come  next  and  demurely  ask  an  interview  with  "-papa,"  to 
settle  certain  little  preliminary  arrangements  about — don't 
look  so  frightened,  young  lady,  I  am  not  going  to  betray 
you — I  only  ask  at  the  present  moment  that  the  supernu 
meraries  vacate  this  apartment,  and  give  me  an  opportunity 
to  talk  with  the  'head  of  the  family.'  Oh!  Charley,  I  beg 
your  pardon ;  I  did  not  observe  you  had  not  finished  your 
coffee.  Take  your  time.  We  are  in  no  hurry." 

The  reader  doubtless  will  recognize  Matilda  in  the  above 
speech. 

We  were  speedily  alone  together. 

"  Don't  you  want  to  know  what  I  am  going  to  do  ?" 

"Yes." 

"  Let  me  tell  you.  In  the  first  place  I  shall  sell  the  house 
Mrs.  Havens  now  occupies.  I  cannot  afford  such  an  estab 
lishment.  She  may  remain  in  it  till  May  ;  will  you  tell  her 
so  ?  The  furniture  I  shall  not  touch,  she  is  at  liberty  to  do 
what  she  pleases  with  it.  Tell  her  that  too.  Further,  I 
shall  set  apart  two  thousand  dollars  a  year  for  her  especial 
use.  Will  you  communicate  all  this  as  kindly  as  you  choose? 


426  UNDERCURRENTS 

I  do  not  think  I  wish  to  see  her  again.  We  have  not  a 
thought  or  a  sympathy  in  common. 

"  Now  for  my  plans.  I  shall  purchase  a  nice  house  pleas 
antly  situated.  It  must  be  commodious  and  neatly  fin 
ished.  The  best  room  in  it  is  for  you.  The  next  Alice 
and  I  will  draw  lots  for.  We  will  all  have  our  own  apart 
ments,  prettily  furnished  too ;  there  shall  be  special  ar 
rangements  for  Charley,  who  is  ill  sometimes.  I  know 
Alice  is  soon  to  be  married.  That  will  make  no  differ 
ence,  for  the  fellow  is  here  now,  all  the  time  he  is  not  at 
his  office.  For  myself" — she  stopped  an  instant,  and  pro 
ceeded  with  an  air  of  solemnity — "  GOD  ought  to  strike  me 
dead  if,  after  complaining  of  HIM  all  my  life,  I  dare  to  do 
as  other  rich  people  do.  I  shall  limit  myself  to  a  reasona 
ble  sum.  No  horses,  no  carriages,  no  extravagancies.  I 
don't  know  but  I  will  have  a  saddle-horse,  it  has  been  the 
dream  of  my  life  to  possess  one ;  but  no  ostentation,  no  dis 
play.  We  will  live  together  happy,  as  we  have  lived,  and  I 
will  begin  and  try  to  do  some  good.  Just  think  what  I  can 
do  with  all  this  money  rolling  in  every  month.  I  shall  not 
require  a  quarter  of  it.  I  shall  try  to  make  some  hearts 
glad,  without  putting  them  under  an  everlasting  burning 
sense  of  disgrace  and  dependence. 

She  walked  up  and  down  the  room,  a  good  deal  excited. 
I  knew  she  was  thinking  of  her  mother. 

"  Well,  what  do  you  say?"  she  asked,  turning  and  look 
ing  at  me.  "  Will  you  be  ready  to  move  ?" 

"  What  can  I  say,  my  dear  child,  to  such  a  generous  sug 
gestion  ?  But,  really,  I  must  not  accede  to  it.  You  have 
no  idea  how  inconvenient  it  will  prove  for  you." 


OF      WALL-STREET.  427 

"Mr.  Parkinson,"  replied  Matilda,  "you  are  too  old  for 
me  to  manage  as  I  would  Warren,  and  therefore,  I  think, 
old  enough  to  be  reasonable.  Now  then,  as  I  know  Alice 
and  Anna  and  Charley,  are  fond  of  me,  and  you  used  to  like 
me  sometimes,  and  as  I  wish  you  to  preserve  your  feeling 
of  independence,  I  propose  you  pay  into  the  common  treas 
ury  what  really,  on  a  fair  computation,  it  actually  costs  extra 
for  your  being  in  the  house.  I  am  sure  you  wont  insist  on 
my  making  money  out  of  you,  as  boarders." 

I  laughed  at  perceiving  the  very  words  I  once  employed 
to  persuade  Matilda  to  live  with  us,  so  ingeniously  turned 
on  me. 

"  I  give  it  up,"  I  said.  "  As  usual,  you  must  have  things 
your  own  way." 

"Thanks,"  cried  Matilda,  warmly. 

"  But  stop  a  moment !" 

"  What  now  ?" 

"  You  will  get  married  one  of  these  days." 

"  One  of  these  days  perhaps  I  shall.  When  the  time 
comes  we  will  talk  about  it.  Now,  once  more,  is  all  set 
tled  ?" 

"All  settled." 

"  Bravo  !     Let  us  announce  our  programme." 

Reader,  we  part  here.  I  have  become  so  accustomed  to 
recount  to  you  my  doleful  experiences,  that  I  find  myself 
quite  incompetent  to  proceed  in  a  new  strain  ;  and  as  noth 
ing  miserable  is  left  for  me  to  record,  I  must  stop. 

One  word,  however,  in  your  ear — one  word  strictly  con 
fidential.  I  have  exposed  to  you  many  of  my  weaknesses. 


428       UNDERCURRENTS      OF      WALL-STREET. 

I  will  conclude  by  betraying  one  more.  I  confess  I  have 
never  returned  to  look  after  my  desk  and  my  two  chairs,  in 
that  basement  office  in  Wall-street.  For  aught  I  know, 
those  articles  still  remain  there,  and  should  any  one  have  the 
least  curiosity  on  the  subject,  he  is  at  liberty  to  satisfy  it  by 
visiting  the  premises. 


THE     K  N  L> 


By  the  Author  of  "Undercurrents." 


ST.  LEGER: 

OR, 
THE     THREADS     OF     LIFE, 

BY  RICHARD  B.  KIMBALL 


New  edition,  1  Vol.  12mo.  Cloth.    $1.25. 


Extract  from  a  private  note  to  the  author  from 


"  It  is  only  within  the  last  two  or  three  days  that  I  have  taken 
your  book  in  hand;  and  I  now  lay  it  down  after  having  been 
deeply  interested  and  delighted  with  the  perusal.  I  do  not  pro 
tend  to  criticise  ;  it  is  not  my  forte  :  but  I  can  feel  when  a  work 
is  good,  and  my  feelings  have  been  continually  aroused  and 
touched  in  the  course  of  perusing  your  pages,  while  they  are  all 
calculated  to  set  a  man  thinking.  In  a  word,  I  find  a  power  and 
beauty  in  your  work  and  a  fertility  of  invention  (almost  prodigal) 
which  convince  me  we  may  confidently  look  for  still  better  things 
at  your  hand.  * 

"I  shall  be  most  happy  to  meet  you  and  testify  to  you  the  great 
esteem  and  regard  inspired  by  your  writings." 

Extracts  from  Notices  of  the  Press. 

"A  Novel  sui-generiam  the  annals  of  American  literature."1  —  Phila.  Journal. 

"  Abounding  in  the  most  thrilling  interest  in  narrative  and  in  maxim."  —  J/V/r.o- 
politun. 

"A  book  of  great  strength."  —  N.  Y.  Evening  Post. 

"  A  brilliant  book,  without  a  prototype  in  our  literature."—^.  Y.  Tribune. 

"A  book  of  power."  —  Boston  Post. 

'•A  very  extraordinary  book."  —  London  Morniii'j  I'oxt. 

u  Here,  there  and  everywhere,  the  author  of  'St.  Leger'  gives  exhibitions  of  passion 
ate  and  romantic  power."  —  Loixinn  AfJx-n  -  u>»." 


— 

Renewed  book^atesub^ctto _ 


DEC  15) 


M57J574 


THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


Cv* 


/  /  /  /J  .//////  /yy  /  //  fJJJJLlJJJJJLtJJJJ 


